


Heritors of Hereafter Book 1: Hearts of Pride

by Thomas_A_Hawk



Series: Heritors of Hereafter [1]
Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Action, Drama, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-07-05 19:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 117,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15870225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thomas_A_Hawk/pseuds/Thomas_A_Hawk
Summary: The name of the game in the world of hunters has changed a lot over the years. Join huntress extraordinaire Mila and Guild sleuth Corvus as they go about doing what they do best... and get wrapped up in the dark plot of the sinister entity known only as Enigma.





	1. One in a Million

 

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Monster Hunter, nor do I own Capcom. If I did I would probably be doing something else with my time instead of writing fanfics. All the characters that appear in this story belong to me unless otherwise stated.**

**Edited By: dashboardgecko**

* * *

Chapter 1: One in a Million

An air of tranquility blew across the yellow grass fields surrounding the Ancestral Steppe. The long, gentle breeze carried blades of grass across the meadows and towards the deep auburn forest and the high grey mountain that made up the hunting grounds.

Only a few particularly stubborn yellows strands managed to make it all the way to the Stairway of the Gods, carried by that same gentle breeze that filled the entire space with a steady howl. The long corridor had earned that title for its peculiar shape—in between two tall stone walls were a set of four 'steps', each one progressively higher than the previous. From ledge to cliff face each platform was separated by about fifty yards, and about the same distance from the base of each wall to the top. The lowest section of the Stairway led further down into the auburn forest at the base of the area, while the uppermost one led further up to the peak of Ancestor's Mount, a space known for both rich ore deposits and the number of wyverns that use the area as a breeding ground.

In spite of the name, no gods occupied the Stairway. Not today, at least. There was one individual there, though—a sole huntress, sliding down the steep sloped path into the canyon proper atop a round silver and blue shield. A gleaming red bloodrun jewel firmly in her left hand, her right dragging across the ground behind her to keep her steady, the huntress grinned eagerly as she neared the center of the uppermost rock shelf, pulling back to slow down and pushing herself up to her feet, kicking the shield up to her free hand and slinging it over her right shoulder, where it was pulled firmly into place by the magnet attached to her back. She took a couple steps forwards as she raised the seemingly already-polished decorative stone to inspect the surface for any damage—and to admire her reflection in one of the jewel's larger gleaming edges.

"Lovely as ever, Mila," she giggled, placing a finger on her reflection. "Tsss,  _hot_!"

She was a tall, slender woman of twenty-three years who always wore a confident, brazen smile, matched well by her silvery-diamond blue eyes. Her long golden blonde hair normally ran down to her waist, but was currently tied up into a ponytail to keep it back—a few lengths still rested over her shoulders though, and beneath her forehead plate a few strands hung low, most prominently over and to the left of her nose. Though her profession was just about the most dangerous in the world, not a single scar blemished her light peach-colored skin. Even after all the training she had gone through over her life which left her toned and lean, she never quite lost her curves, nor all the smooth features of her face. She just liked to think she fit the fantasy image most people had for huntresses: strong and stunning. Were it an option, she would absolutely take herself on a date.

The huntress wore a suit of Battle armor, a light set designed with mobility in mind. Her chest was covered in somewhat-formfitting green scale mail that cut off just below her ribs, revealing a white furry lining over the long-sleeved chainmail shirt she wore—also cut off at the midriff, which allowed her to proudly show off her toned abdomen. A thin belt wrapped around just below the chainmail, and a pair of leather straps, one red and one blue, extended down the front of her body from that belt to a larger loop of bone that wound around her hips. The bone served not only as armor, but to hold up the chainmail half-skirt over her right leg, which had a large piece of blue cloth beneath it to keep the cold metal from battering her leg when she walked. She wore a short pair of brown leather shorts that were a lighter shade on the sides and that covered only a portion of her upper legs. A section of her powerful thighs were exposed between the shorts and the tall chainmail leggings that extended the rest of the way down her legs and into her brown leather boots, the fronts of which were covered in segments of polished metallic plates held on by metal bolts and a blue leather straps, while segmented green scale plates covered her legs above the knees. As for her arms, she wore rounded metal braces between her elbows and the middle of her biceps, the left having a bulky device containing a grappling line fastened to it. The rounded elbow pieces were bolted onto her metallic vambraces, which covered the entirety of her forearms and gleamed with a freshly-polished shine. A single strip of blue cloth, each with a slightly diagonal-rectangle pattern, wrapped around both of her wrists and upper thighs, and a thinner strip of blue cloth wrapped around her neck, just below her collar, which was held up by a piece of bone carved into the shape of a shell with a loop on the back, allowing a portion of the blue cloth to hang over her sizeable bust like a small scarf. Lastly, she wore a long blue cloth headband with bone plating and cheek guards to offer her face some light protection.

As for her weapons, Mila currently carried a single curved short sword with a deep cerulean blade on the right side of her waist, matched by the silver and blue round shield slung over her right shoulder. Both were heirlooms that had previously belonged to her mother, a fact that had heavily influenced her decision to bestow the name Sapphire upon the sword. Those weren't the only armaments she was packing, though—a trio of short swords, each only slightly longer than her forearms, were attached to the back of her armor in a bundle of wooden scabbards that jutted over her left shoulder. Like her sword, she had also named these short blades: Blossom, Bud, and Bloom. The scabbards contained a concentration of toxins that soaked into the blades and gave them each an individual status effect—Blossom, with its purple guard and disc pommel, was highly poisonous; Bud, possessing a blue guard and a diamond shaped pommel, was coated in a powerful sleep toxin that, given enough time and application, could even knock out a larger monster; and Bloom the yellow-hilted blade with a spherical pommel was seeped in paralytic Genprey venom. And of course, her Guild-issued carving knife Talon was sheathed on the back of her belt.

Figuring she had preened over herself enough (there'd be more time for that later anyways) Mila took a couple steps forwards and stored the jewel into her pouch, feeling a slight twinge in her mind just as she latched it shut. She was immediately aware of a large projectile rocketing towards her from higher up the path she had just slid down, and it would reach her in less than a second with its speed. Without even turning to look the huntress threw herself out of the way with a swift cartwheel, whirling around to face her attacker while the massive flaming orb it launched her way shot through the space she had occupied not even a moment earlier, bursting further back behind her.

"Alright, so you're still a  _little_  miffed."

A large, long-bodied, green-scaled Rathian glowered down at her from higher up the slope, flames licking at its lips from within its sharp-toothed maw. It looked none too happy, and for fairly obvious reasons—Mila had been mining nearby its nest and awoken it from its slumber, and the wyvern likely assumed the huntress was after its eggs. That, or the simple fact that Raths tended to be more temperamental than usual during and around mating season, coupled with Radiance's effects, meant this one was out for her blood.

As the beast slowly stalked down the incline towards her with a menacing, prideful gait, Mila glanced over her shoulder at the cliff about ten yards behind her. A straight drop to the next shelf down from this height would undoubtedly leave a person with a couple broken legs at best… Fortunately, she had other plans for herself.

The huntress turned back towards the Rathian and clapped her hands together repeatedly while stooping low, whistling and gesturing towards herself tauntingly.

"Well? C'mon, girl! Catch me if you can!"

Whether or not the wyvern could understand the meaning of her words remained unclear, but at the very least it understood her tone and gestures to be insults and challenges. The Rathian responded with a furious roar, then broke into a stampede towards the huntress with its mouth wide open, flames flickering in its gullet. Mila swiveled around and raced towards the cliff, easily clearing the distance in the blink of an eye. Ducking into a slide a few steps from the edge, the huntress skirted over and dropped half a dozen feet down the cliff face before grabbing hold of a protruding handhold with her right hand, coming to a smooth halt. She aimed her left arm up, clutching at the grappling line's firing mechanism while she felt the Rathian's charge bringing it closer and closer to the edge.

Moments later the wyvern shot over the cliff, clearly intending to circle back on the huntress and pin her against the wall. Just as its body appeared, however, Mila simultaneously fired the line upwards and released her hold on the rockface. The metal tip shot between the Rathian's talons before splitting open and catching fast, drawing the rope taut between huntress and wyvern. Mila let out an excited laugh as she was pulled along after the Rathian, holding onto the rope for dear life as she was tugged back and forth by even the slightest shift of the flying wyvern's body. What a thrill it was!

The Rathian swiftly turned before clearing one of the large stone 'step' far below, realizing it had unwillingly taken on a passenger. It screeched angrily and attempted to dislodge the huntress by kicking its foot around in midair. Not being in the mood for that sort of ride, Mila quickly responded by again clutching the mechanism and drawing the line back to her gauntlet, whipping towards one of the tall walls enclosing the Stairway at a near-parallel angle as the tether between huntress and wyvern disappeared. She landed on the surface of the sloping wall nigh-perfectly, sliding a couple dozen feet in a gradual downwards curve before getting her feet beneath her.

Pushing herself up, the huntress raced down the wall at an incredible speed—it took mere seconds for her to clear almost a hundred yards, the wind whipping her hair back like a river of gold. The slope gradually lessened in steepness as she neared the ground, though not nearly enough to prevent her from running headfirst into the canyon floor if she kept going like that. Rather, the huntress ducked into a half-slide and pushed off before reaching the ground, vaulting several yards away from the wall and somersaulting through the air, slipping her shield off her back in the process. Mila managed to get the thick metal plate underneath her just before landing, rocketing down the trail leading down into the auburn forest surrounding Ancestor's Mount with a triumphant laugh.

An infuriated roar sounded behind her as the Rathian resumed its pursuit of her, soaring down the path after her and transitioning into a stampede as they entered the next area, consisting of a shallow crook running through a rounded slope leading towards a sharp drop into the deep woods far below, overlooked by a naturally formed bridge of red stone with a short break between its two halves. There was a steady path to the left and a sharper drop to the right, but Mila preferred the thrill taking the center path would provide.

The huntress grinned as she sensed another fireball rocketing towards her, swerving to the side as the flaming orb shot past and struck the opposite half of the 'bridge', shattering the long-eroded stone with a powerful fiery blast and showering the creek below with several large chunks of debris, scaring away a number of Jaggi and Jaggia that had been drinking from the water at the same time.

Undeterred, Mila pushed herself up from her slide with a side flip, kicking her shield up to her arm and catching it by the strap right as she landed and transitioned into a sprint, remaining ever-aware of the infuriated wyvern stomping after her. She raced up and over the still-standing half of the old red stone bridge, and with a powerful push from her legs, the huntress leapt far over the gap between the span and the plateau, over the babbling brook, over the confused raptors below. She soared nearly fifteen yards from a single leap, clearing the gap with plenty of room to spare.

"Woo, nailed it!" she cheered as she pushed up from a roll, turning to glance over her shoulder at the sound of a panicked cry and crumbling stone.

In its rage the Rathian had stepped onto the remaining half of the weathered bridge after her. Its weight caused the weak stone to collapse and drop the wyvern into the stream underneath with a resounding  _thoom,_ shaking the ground all around it and thoroughly convincing the nearby ankle biters to vacate the premise. As the wyvern began to push itself up from where it had fallen, one larger stone came loose from what remained of the bridge still attached to the wall, tumbling down directly onto its skull and shattering against the scales, though not without earning a pained howl from the Rathian.

"Ooh, ouch! You  _might_  wanna ice that bump later."

Her gaze shifted up from the green-scaled wyvern as the telltale howl of wind beneath wings filled the air, and she turned her head just as a large yellow-orange beast landed on the raised plateau several yards to her right, shaking the ground beneath its claws from the impact. Quadrupedal, powerful winged forearms, a massive head with distinctly giant jaws lined with sharp teeth, teal-grey eyes filled with unchecked rage, blue stripes across its long body and down its tail towards the spiny protrusion at the tip…

Tigrex.

The newly-arrived wyvern let out a mighty roar powerful enough to shove the loose dirt around it into a wide circle five yards around itself. Its hungry gaze was fixated completely on the Rathian in the gorge below.

Pushing off with its powerful forelimbs the Tigrex pounced at the Queen of the Land, smashing down atop the flying wyvern and clawing at its wings while attempting to clamp its jaws down on the Rath's neck. Though letting out a pained shriek, its blood splattering the ground around it from the wyvern's assault, the Rathian fought back hard, smashing the Tigrex against the wall to its side twice to dislodge the beast, collapsing a section of rock onto both creatures in doing so, moreso the Tigrex than the Rathian. The Roaring Wyvern tumbled about in the debris to right itself, only to meet with a point-blank fireball directly to the face as soon as its legs were underneath it, staggering it back with a shocked howl. The Rath then attempted to follow up by jumping into the air and flipping backwards, slinging its poisonous tail up at the Tigrex's jaw.

Mila mouthed an impressed 'wow' when the partially-blinded Tigrex lurched its head back and boldly snapped its jaws forwards to meet the Rathian's tail, taking the brunt of the impact directly into its mouth. Though blood and poison splashed onto the ground beneath its head, the Tigrex clamped down hard, holding the airborne wyvern firmly in place even as the panicked Rath furiously beat its wings to pull away. The Roaring Wyvern let out a low growl before yanking its head down, pulling the Queen of the Land down hard enough to slam it into the stream with a resounding  _thoom_ that splashed water every which way _._  It screeched in triumph as it lifted its arm above its head, intent on crushing the Rath's head beneath its claws, but the second before its arm dropped the Rathian pulled its head out of the way, flames licking at its lips as it inhaled deeply.

The fireball that left its maw a moment later exploded across the Tigrex's chest with enough force to throw the Roaring Wyvern back almost twenty feet onto its side, splashing into the stream and filling the air with a cloud of steam as the water extinguished the flames that had ignited on its body. Taking the opening it had created for itself while the Tigrex recovered, the draconic wyvern took to the air, shakily flying up towards the treeline overhead and disappearing from sight without even sparing a glance backwards.

"Smart girl," the huntress smirked. It must've realized that leaving its nest unguarded to fight an unfavorable battle was a bad idea, and its maternal instincts had at last kicked in. The huntress had been so utterly captivated by the sight of the creatures' duel, the natural struggle that just couldn't be replicated anywhere but the wilds, that she hadn't even moved an inch from where she had been standing.

Her attention was pulled downwards yet again, however, as the Tigrex pushed itself back up and roared after its fleeing prey, its eyes flicking towards her now that the Rathian was no longer distracting it. Now that she could get a good look at it, she identified a few distinct traits—a few scars over its right eye, a long, jagged split in the right side of its lip, a broken horn, distinctly tattered wing membranes that looked almost like flames, an overall darker coloration, and a massive scar over its back caused by a hunter's great sword. She'd read a report in Val Habar about a Tigrex with those same features, nicknamed the Raging Blitz. It was considered a six-star threat, a step up from the average Tigrex, due to its age and experience as well as its incredible resilience. Supposedly it had managed to kill two older veteran hunters and hospitalize a third some months ago when they wandered into its territory on a gathering quest and attempted to pick a fight with it.

Its intended target having slipped away, the beast instead opted to target the huntress, letting out another roar and beginning to claw at the ground, tearing the rock and soil beneath it as it dragged into a stampede towards her. The huntress chuckled bemusedly before turning and sprinting off towards the wide, winding pathway leading out of the auburn forest along the drop off.

"Let's see if you can keep up, bucko!"

The wyvern charged after her in a frenzy of wild stomps and flails, gnashing its teeth all the while. Mila easily managed to keep ahead of it, though, ducking into a short slide as they neared a sharp bend in the path to aid her turn and simultaneously duck underneath the Tigrex's jumping tackle when it attempted to leap down upon her. The beast crashed hard into the wall behind her, obliterating a large boulder in the process but only stalling it in a cloud of dust for a few brief moments. The huntress continued down the path and past another bend, though she had to slow her pace when she saw the Raging Blitz leap down from the ledge overhead and onto the path about a dozen yards ahead of her, sending a powerful quake through the ground that split a deep crack to the ledge, dislodging several stones from the wall as well.

The obtrusion only slowed her momentarily, though. She darted towards the left as it gnashed its jaws at her, evading the attack and charging a couple yards up the wall. The Raging Blitz snarled viciously and attempted to slam its claw down on her as she rushed up the incline, but Mila pushed off just before the forceful impact could connect, leaping completely over the Tigrex's body with a long, graceful flip. She slid down the twenty-foot slope to the next segment of the path, coming to a halt between a pair of hunters, both with wary stances and drawn weapons. One was garbed in grey and blue rock-like Basarios armor and held a massive iron hammer with a grey head decorated by a blue pattern, while the other was outfitted with pale white Nerscylla armor and a matching long sword. Both gawked at her sudden appearance before turning their heads skywards, just in time to see the Tigrex careening down towards them.

Mila darted to the left, as did the Basarios-clad hunter, while the man in Nerscylla gear ducked right and threw himself out of the way. The Roaring Wyvern slammed into the path so forcefully that the ground all around seemed to quake, forcing the three to stumble in order to maintain their footing. While the Tigrex turned towards Mila and the rock-clad hunter, though, a massive splitting sound filled the air, and a heavy crack appeared beneath the Tigrex. No sooner had it taken a single stomp towards the two than the earth below ruptured completely, dropping the ground underneath the wyvern—along with the Tigrex—down to the next segment of the winding path, a panicked screech filling the air just before it slammed into the ground in a hail of debris.

"Well, that happened," the hammer user grunted, turning his head towards Mila. "And hello there, good-lookin'. Are you hunting that thing? Alone?"

"Nah, I'm on the harvest tour," she grinned, blushing at the compliment. "This Tigrex just decided to crash the party! But you should have  _seen_ the tussle it got into with the Rathian that was chasing me right before! It was all  _FWOOSH_ and _KABAM_ and _RAWWR._ Just,  _THE_  coolest."

"Wait, a Rathian too?!" the Nerscylla hunter called from across the newly-formed chasm between them. "Exactly how much trouble do you get into every time you go out for a gathering trip, lady?"

"Oh, usually a little more. This is a pretty tame day all things considered. Like this one time, four years ago, I was at the Arctic Ridge, right?! And this Kushala—"

The huntress found herself cut off as a powerful roar sounded below them, and the ground began to quake—the Tigrex was beginning to forcibly climb the wall back up to their path, using its powerful claws to tear into the stone.

"Wow, rude!" she called down to the beast, huffing lightly before glancing back and forth between the two hunters. "Guess it'll have to wait. Happy hunting, boys!"

Without even waiting for a response, Mila leapt over the chasm and pulled her shield from her back, throwing it underfoot as she began to drop. She fell about ten feet before rebounding off the surprised Tigrex's snout, bounding off to the side while the wyvern yelped from the impact, one of its claws dislodging from the wall in the process and causing the Roaring Blitz to once more go tumbling uncontrollably down the cliff face. The metal plate beneath her grated loudly against stone and dirt as she slid down the incline, pushing off with a short grunt of effort to clear the next segment of the path and beginning her descent down the rest of the cliff face towards the auburn forest far below.

Meanwhile the Tigrex's previous rampage up and down the path, as well as its current tumbling down the ravaged cliff face, had loosened many stones and boulders from the mount, creating a small rockslide with itself in the very middle of it all. Many boulders ranging in size from a melon to a grown wyvern had shaken free from the rockface and begun to careen down after her as well, filling the air with crumbling stones and shrill cries from the wyvern caught up in it all.

"Woo! Now this  _rocks_!" Mila grinned, swerving hard to avoid one of the boulders as it barreled past. The cascade of red and brown stone threatened to envelop her at every inch, but the huntress managed to stay just ahead of the main body, dodging out of the way of any boulders that managed to break ahead thanks to her Awareness. She grinned wildly as she began to near the treeline below, her eyes flitting towards a bump ahead of her just before the incline sharply dropped. The sword wielder angled herself at the 'ramp' and launched herself into a free fall towards the canopy while the rocks pursuing her tumbled down into the trees far behind her.

The huntress soared dozens of yards ahead, shifting her shield back to her left arm as she neared an opening in the trees. She fired the grappling line upwards as she dropped into the canopy, the hooked end catching on one of many particularly thick branches and drawing itself taut as the inner mechanism retracted the excess line. She was safely able to transfer her momentum into a long swing, and at the end of her arc she retracted the line, flinging herself towards a long vine ahead that hung down to another level of the forest made up of tangled vines and branches. She caught it about halfway down, killing the rest of her momentum with the long green tendril as she slid down to the ground. The rockslide continued to crash into the forest far behind her, only a few stones managing to come close to reaching her, though missing by a number of yards to the left or right, usually punching a large hole into the canopy in the process. Mila took a few moments to glance back at the massive dust cloud the rockslide had kicked up with a frown.

"Poor thing must've gotten crushed. Guess that's how the cookie crumbles…"

A furious roar drowned out the falling stones, however, the wave of sound powerful enough to blast an opening through the cloud—racing out from the deadly cascade covered in blood and with its left wing looking horribly mangled, its veins pulsing a dangerous red color as blood flowed from its maw, was the Raging Blitz. It was heading directly towards her, barreling over thinner trees while smashing larger ones badly enough to threaten to topple them.

"Oh, nevermind then! Tough cookie it is!" Mila smirked, quickly backpedaling and turning to continue her sprint through the woods. Tigrex were already known for their strength and tenacity over their intelligence, but one durable enough to survive getting caught up in a rockslide too? It was clear why the Guild considered it such a threat. Even still, there was no way its scrap with the Rathian and its tumble down the cliff hadn't left it seriously hurting.

The chase continued on through the vine layer towards the edge of the woods, with Mila eventually finding an opening to skirt through and slide down to the floor along a winding branch. The Tigrex was right on her heels, shoving its head through the opening and chewing the vines and branches apart as it dug through in pursuit of the huntress, sending a shudder through the increasingly unsteady vine layer. Mila slid down and hopped to the shaded floor below with a roll, glancing around even as she heard the Tigrex slam down after her. Several walls of vines stretched to the ground overhead, offering a way up through the gaps in the canopy and supporting the entire structure of vine at the same time. The massive entanglement immediately gave Mila an idea—she darted towards one of the vine 'ladders' and skidded to a halt, turned around to face the stampeding wyvern and whistled loudly.

"Hey, Blitz! Dinner's waiting!"

The enraged Tigrex's eyes already on her, it turned hard and rushed her faster than ever, its claws shredding through the ground as it dragged them along to angle itself at the huntress and launch itself into a leaping charge at her. Mila ducked and threw herself out of the way just before the beast crashed into her, hitting the floor with a roll and breaking into a sprint while the Raging Blitz crashed through the vine pillar, sending a thick shudder through the tangled mass overhead.

"Whoopsies, gonna have to try harder than that! C'mon, main course, right over here!" she called, standing in front of another vine wall and knocking her right hand against her shield, her gauntlet clanking against the plate obnoxiously.

The Tigrex shook the mass of vines from its mouth, tearing the ladder apart and causing the section overhead to sag downwards from the lack of support, before turning its livid glare towards her and lifting one of its claws. A short growl preceded Blitz slamming its less-wounded claw into the ground, launching a mass of roots and stones at the huntress. She grinned as they approached—she sensed every last one as it entered the field of her Awareness, and she predicted the way to avoid the barrage in a split second. She turned her body to the side and leaned back, narrowly skirting between two rocks by only a few inches and feeling a rush of wind lift her hair up behind her, but still she completely avoided the projectiles themselves. The stones crashed through the vines behind her, only further causing the ceiling to sag inwards with a low, straining groan.

"Are you even trying?! Guess somebody's not very hungry!"

The huntress let out a taunting laugh as she rushed over towards the thick tree in the center of the area, the Tigrex hot on her trail. She darted around the trunk, wincing at the splintering sound when Blitz slammed one of its claws into the old wood before charging past. It turned hard once again, its eyes landing on the huntress with her back to the large wall of wood and goading it into a faster-than-ever charge, deadly intent glowing within its now-crimson eyes and veins.

Mila flashed a confident grin and brazenly raced forwards towards the charging brute. Had it not been completely blinded by fury, it might have hesitated a moment at that maneuver, but the Raging Blitz simply continued its mad dash towards the huntress. Mila timed the creature's rapid footsteps as they closed the distance, and just as its left wing dropped, the sword wielder whipped her shield towards its face, ricocheting the plate off the side of its skull and making it wince. Taking advantage of the split-second lapse in its attenition Mila pushed off with her legs and stepped off the appendage as it passed, catching her shield strap around her wrist and just barely avoiding the Tigrex's snapping maw when it suddenly twisted its head after her. She landed into a cartwheel as it raced past, then into two consecutive flips, before finally landing with a slide several yards back, turning her eyes upwards as she came to a stop.

The Raging Blitz collided with the thick tree, outright snapping the already-weakened trunk with its weight and scattering chunks of wood all throughout the area around it. The blow momentarily stunned the wyvern, halting it for a few seconds to shake its head clear—a few seconds too long, now that the main support holding the vine canopy up was destroyed. A loud creaking wail filled the space as the vines overhead completely sagged inwards, snapping free from the stone walls on either side of the area and falling to the ground below. Mila only had to take a single long step backwards to get out of the way, but the Raging Blitz was dead smack in the middle of it all—it let out a panicked screech just before hundreds of pounds of thick ivy and gnarled wooden branches came down on top of it, burying it beneath the overgrowth.

"I thought your diet could use a little extra green in it," she grinned as she brushed some dirt from her chainmail halfskirt, turning from the muffled sounds of pained, frantic roars beneath the tangled mass of vines and branches. With the Raging Blitz currently occupied, the huntress continued on towards the next area, whistling a merry tune to herself while jogging through a passage walled in by the same grey stones that made up Ancestor's Mount.

The scenery gradually shifted as she moved along, from stone to grass and dirt while the passage widened substantially. She had to leap over a long, deep crevasse, but before long she reached a turn and came into the next area, a large field covered in vibrant yellow grass, with a large river running along the right and feeding into a deep pond some distance further off. And the sky! The sky was a deep azure blue hue broken only by the occasional cloud of white, and of course brightly illuminated by the blazing sun overhead. From her slightly elevated position she could see on for miles and miles. The simple sight of it all made her heart flutter with excitement, even if it wasn't the first time she had been blessed with such a grand view. Something about the world, about all there was to see out on the horizon, thrilled her more than nearly anything else. That was why she had become a huntress—to explore and see as much of the world she'd grown up hearing stories about as she possibly could with her own two eyes.

Taking a deep breath with a light smile, Mila pressed onwards into the meadow, lifting her arms to either side as a breeze swept through the area and blew countless blades of grass across the field. None actually came into contact with her, though—any that would have seemed to flutter away from or around her body, as though pushed back by some slight unseen barrier. The feeling of the wind on her body, fluttering her hair in the breeze behind her, filled her with such a sense of ecstatic freedom she almost felt like just running off into those vast fields and never coming back.

"Having the time of your life as usual, huh Princess?" Mila turned at the call of her long time best friend Falia's steady and controlled-yet-snarky voice, seeing the woman far off to the right next to an Aptonoth's carcass.

She was of average height, had an attractive heart-shaped face and a pleasant expression, and was quite athletically built; the latter came with her job as a field handler. Her hair was shoulder-length, parted slightly to the left to allow more of the black strands to hang over the right of her head, though not quite to the point where it covered either of her bright yellow eyes. She kept the ends of her hair dyed a similar yellow color, convincingly enough that one could be forgiven for believing it grew in like that naturally.

Her attire was built to be sturdy and reliable, perfect for going out on forays into the wild, though not nearly as bulky as anything that properly qualified as hunting armor. Regardless, Mila thought the outfit looked great on her. Falia wore a long olive green jacket over a dark shirt, a blue-patterned white scarf wrapped around her neck and hanging down over her deceptively buxom chest. On her legs she wore dark pants and tall leather boots, matched by the gauntlets on her arms. On her left arm the handler had an Asterian slinger, a newly-introduced device created by hunters in the New World consisting of a large circular metal disk with two folding arms and a retracting slide that resembled a crossbow when deployed, and that contained a grappling line just like Mila's. A belt with a few pouches containing various traps, tools, and ammunition-like 'pods' for the slinger hung around her waist, as did a hunting knife and an oversized four shot revolving pistol that could fire both bullets and flares, the latter much more commonly.

"Hellooo, Sweetheart!" Mila grinned cheerfully, jogging over to where Falia sat crouched, wrapping hunks of raw meat into cloth bundles to store for later. "So, you finally decided to join me after all! Miss me that much?" she purred coyly, earning an eyeroll from her friend.

"Not even a little," Falia smirked bemusedly, though she frowned after a moment, tapping at the device in her ear. Mila wore one similar—useful communication devices for hunters to correspond with one another in the field if they were set to the same frequency, even when separated by a few miles. "I  _was_ trying to get into contact with you, but this darn mic keeps breaking on me. Care to explain all the roars and explosions I heard coming from your end?"

"Pfft, you're acting like any of that's new! You know me better than that!"

"And that's  _exactly_ the reason I maintain a healthy distance."

"Ah c'mon, do you really expect to make it to the New World with an attitude like that? You've gotta be bold, adventurous! Make some waves!" Mila grinned, sweeping her hand out towards the horizon dramatically, earning an eyeroll from Falia.

"Yeah yeah, I'll get right on that… preferably  _very far away_ from the monster nests you so enjoy diving into without a second thought. I don't need to remind you that we have completely different definitions of 'adventurous'."

Mila let out a short laugh, only for the sound of another roar from the path she had just entered the area through to cut her off and draw their attention. Blitz soared down from above, just barely entering the thirty-yard radius of her Awareness when it landed in the field behind them. It was covered with gashes and cuts, its wing membranes were even further torn, and a great number of vines and leaves were still entangled around its body, while some thicker wooden branches were even impaled through its wings or body, and while clearly exhausted, it still looked as furious as ever.

"Oh joy, it followed you home. Getting some Maki vibes here… Gonna name this one too?" Falia asked dryly, taking a couple steps back while priming her slinger. The device snapped open and clicked into firing position, creaking as she loaded a pod onto the track and cranked the catch back.

"Sadly the Guild beat me to it," Mila pouted, turning fully towards the Raging Blitz as it growled furiously at her, attempting a few steps towards her while staggering heavily on its wounded limb after only a couple yards. She was normally content to just let creatures run along after giving them a bit of a thrashing—if she wasn't specifically trying to slay them, that is—but no, this one just had to keep coming after her… she knew Radiance was the likely reason, but she supposed this Tigrex was as stubborn mentally as it was physically.

"Take a hint and beat it, Blitz! I don't wanna kill ya, but that doesn't mean I won't if I gotta!"

The wyvern's reply was an angered yet exhausted screech of defiance, causing air to rush outwards in all directions, pressing the grass flat and making Mila's hair whip up behind her. The huntress simply sighed as she heard a metallic  _click_ behind her, swiftly lifting her shield to cover her face as Falia's slinger launched a glass pod with a glowing flashbug inside into the space between them and the Tigrex just as it began to charge. It detonated after a short distance, filling the space with a brilliant flash of blinding light that stopped the Raging Blitz dead in its tracks with a pained, confused howl.

"Raging Blitz, huh?" Falia said as she loaded another pod into the device on her arm, stepping up beside the huntress now that it was more safe to do so. "What do you say, Princess? Feel like smiting this overgrown lizard? There's a pretty nice reward for it."

"We didn't come out here to hunt anything. I just needed the jewel for Corvus' gift," Mila repeated, giving Falia a side eye while the wyvern began swiping at the space around it wildly, rolling halfway across the field to their right in its blinded confusion. "Let's just let the poor thing go. He's had a rough day."

"But… but the zenni. The materials! That beautiful red 'quest complete' stamp in my notebook!"

"Sweetheart, that's a quest we  _didn't_ sign up for. Maybe next time, eh?"

"Ugh, you're  _at least_  half the reason my record isn't as full as I want it to be… Fine, your way it is. But you owe me, big time."

Mila smirked and lightly smacked Falia's butt, earning a short yip of surprise from her handler, before stepping towards the Raging Blitz as the wyvern tried to shake off the effects of the flash bomb. The huntress gripped Sapphire's red leather-wrapped hilt, pulling the cerulean blade from its place on her hip and twirling it once on either side of her, all before leveling it in front of her, sunlight gleaming off its well-polished, razor-sharp edge.

"Well Blitz? It's showtime!"

Mila darted towards Blitz's left as it turned towards the sound of her voice, taking a wild, poorly aimed sweep of its claws at her. She leapt over the attack before it even came close to hitting her, spiraling through the air and landing with a roll behind the Tigrex's leg. She turned sharply and rushed the wyvern's back, swiping her blade upwards with a leaping slash that carved a line through its rear-left thigh while jumping clear over the creature's body. She turned over in midair, landing squarely on her feet at the base of the Tigrex's neck and stabbing her blade into its shoulder to lodge herself into place. Her blade cut deep in the soft, unplated section of the beast's hide, the latent element contained within further battering the Tigrex with a powerful jet of water that trailed after the huntress' blade.

She lifted her shield arm and slammed the plate into the top of Blitz's head twice, each accompanied by the dull ringing of metal against bone, then pulled her sword from its body and slashed left and right three times, carving shallow gashes into the plates on the back of the beast's head and buffeting it with more water element. Blitz roared in pain before rearing up, an act Mila immediately reacted to by kicking off the Roaring Wyvern's back—not a moment too soon either, as the creature fell backwards in a frenzied attempt to crush her underneath its weight. She hit the ground with a roll and rushed back towards the beast as it recovered.

Clearing the gap in the blink of an eye, Mila launched herself into a swift, beautiful sequence of sharp swings and stabs. Rapidly she slashed up and down, left and right, with the sweeps and strokes of her blade accompanied by flourished twists and spins of her body, accentuated further by long trails of water element. Blood and water sprayed every which way as Mila's assault on the wyvern continued, lining its body with cuts while she evaded its attacks as dexterously as she struck, countering with precision slashes and thrusts or bashes from her shield. The wounded and weary creature just couldn't keep up with her blistering speed, taking frenzied sweeps towards her only for its deadly claws to be met with empty air as she skirted beneath its body or vaulted over its limbs. Even a full body spin failed to hit the huntress when she jumped completely over the strike with a front flip, letting out a triumphant laugh as she dropped, slashing her blade down the side of the beast's neck. With her confident, brazen grin, the huntress leapt back to avoid a retaliatory stomp from the Tigrex, hurling her shield at its face in midair. The blue plate clanged off the creature's skull with a resounding ring, making it wince while the shield flipped back towards the huntress. She then darted forwards again, catching the shield strap around her wrist and delivering a quick jumping slash to the wyvern's jaw. She landed from that and turned sharply, driving her foot up into the beast's chin barely a second later. The combination of blows succeeded in making Blitz rear back a pace and lift its head to avoid another follow up, though the huntress did not press the attack immediately. She instead turned and held her shield up behind her as a luminous blue glow surrounded her body. The Tigrex's eyes met hers for a brief moment, and then—

"Chew on  _THIS_! _"_ Mila shouted, rushing forwards and swinging her shield up with a powerful rising uppercut, planting the metal plate directly into the bottom of the Tigrex's head. There was a slight pause, then a massive shudder as a wave of energy exploded outwardly from the huntress' shield, carrying her high up into the air above Blitz and forcing it to rear back with a shocked howl, tumbling over and rolling nearly two dozen yards back while the huntress dropped back towards the ground and landed in a crouch.

She focused her attention on the Tigrex as it struggled about in place, eventually turning over and getting its legs underneath it. It turned its head towards the huntress to glare at her with its unobscured eye, while Mila simply grinned and rested her blade over her shoulder.

"What's wrong? That all you got?!" she taunted, raising her arm out to the side. "I can keep dancing around you all day, bub!"

Blitz growled lowly at her remark, as if understanding her mocking gestures and tone, scraping at the ground beneath it as if debating to charge her again. Mila rolled her eyes and whistled, hearing Falia's slinger discharge another pod from her hiding place in the tall yellow grass behind Mila not even a moment later. The sword wielder sensed the projectile fling past, clearing the space between huntress and beast, and burst across the Tigrex's face in a brownish cloud, making it screech in shock.

"Way to give 'em the stink eye, Sweetheart!" Mila grinned, quite cheerful that Ward could stave off the stink of the projectile. The pod seemed to have done its job quite well—a massive brown stain covered one of its eyes, and the beast no doubt had its nostrils full of dung. The Tigrex began desperately trying to wipe the stain away by dragging its face along the grass, only to pause and sharply turn its head to the path behind it. Mila cocked her head to the side as the sounds of battle cries reached her ears—the two hunters from before raced into view with weapons hefted over their shoulders, shouting ferociously as they rushed the Raging Blitz.

Blitz pushed off with its forelegs and leapt off to the side before the two could reach it, their weapons slamming into the ground it had stood on just a moment prior. It skidded to a halt and glanced between the two new arrivals and Mila, as well as towards the patch of grass Falia had hidden herself in—whether it actually saw her was uncertain. However, it didn't attempt to attack. It remained there, panting tiredly and sizing up the threats before it. Whatever deliberation it went through must have happened quickly, as the hunters in Basarios and Nerscylla armor hadn't even lifted their weapons fully before it let out one more screech and turned away from the group, racing up another slope into the highlands of the Ancestral Steppe, dripping blood onto the grey stones below all the way. Mila let out a brief sigh of relief as any hostile vibes it gave off towards her and the others vanished from her senses before it left the field of her Awareness.

"Good boy. Now go on back home and rest up, tough guy! Sleep tight, don't let the barrel bombs ignite!" she called after it, giving her weapon a few quick twirls before sliding it back into place on her belt and affectionately patting Sapphire's pommel.

"Aren't you… going to go and… finish it off?" the rock-clad hunter huffed as he thumped his hammer onto the ground and pulled his helmet off to wipe his brow. He had short, spiky brown hair and eyes of a matching hue, as well as a squared face and jawline. "C'mon… we ran all the way down… that mess of a cliff… to help out…!"

"Don't even… get me started on… that mess of vines back there," the Nerscylla armored hunter panted while stabbing his sword into the ground and propping himself up with it, yanking his own helm off and dropping it into the grass beside him. He had slicked forward black hair shaved close to his head on the sides, as well as a pair of cool grey eyes. Unlike his companion, his features were more gradual and smooth.

"Eheh, sorry boys, but that one's free to go," Mila laughed, leaving the two hunters to groan tiredly and sink to the ground in disappointment. "Aww, don't get so down! The fact that you worried about little ol' me enough to come running in like that was sweet! Completely unnecessary and utterly pointless, but sweet!"

"I, uh… you're welcome?" the hammer user said, glancing up at her with a slightly redder tint to his cheeks. He cocked his head to the side in thought, only for his eyes to then widen in realization. "Wait a second… you look just like—is your name Mila? Are you THE Mila? The Untouchable Huntress?!"

"Right on the money! Heard of me, have you?"

"And here we go again…" Falia muttered from a few paces behind the huntress as she went about picking up bloodied scales and claw fragments.

"Who  _hasn't_ heard of you?!" the hunter said excitedly, almost forcibly, apparently forgetting all his fatigue as he pushed himself up and began to roughly shake his friend's shoulder. "You see, Deen? SEE?! I knew it! I told you she looked familiar!"

"Easy Sain, easy! I get it, she's some kinda… celebrity or something. No need to tear my pauldron off over it," Deen sighed with a more lackadaisical tone to his voice.

"WHAT. Do you even—! How are you NOT as excited as I am?!"

"Maybe because I don't know her? You know I never care enough to keep up on the news."

"Oh gods, I'm friends with an uncultured Mosswine… Mila's one of the best young hunters in Maglea! C'mon, she was in the exam with Zeke, Alastor, and Lowell five years back—they're the Four Faces! They've been featured in Hunter's Life dozens of times now! There is no possible way you haven't heard about any of them!"

"Ehh… I think my little sister named her pet frog Zeke..."

"Hopeless. You, are utterly, irredeemably, hopelessly hopeless. A-anyways, Mila—can I call you Mila?"

"Of course!" the huntress laughed with a short wave of her hand. "I'm not too picky about what people call me, but the name my Dad gave me is definitely my favorite!"

"Right then, Mila! Could I like… get an autograph or something? This is all just so… wow."

"Hmm… since you're kinda cute, how about I do you one better? Falia and I will be in town for another day or two—find us in Val Habar later and we can all get some drinks!"

"S-seriously?! You think I'm—?! I mean!  _Ahem!_  My idiot friend and I would gladly join you two! Our treat, in fact!"

"Oh, suuure, I'm the idiot. Remind me again who it was that forgot his own  _weapon_  in his carriage this morning?" the long sword user inquired with a smarmy tone, pushing himself up and giving Sain a sideways glare. The hammer user visibly flinched at his words, then turned and quickly strode over to his friend, waving a shaky finger into the air between them.

" _Shhhhhhhut it_."

"And you say I'm the hopeless one…" Deen planted a hand on Sain's shoulder and pushed him aside to address Mila and Falia. "We've got a quest of our own to finish up. I presume you're heading back to town now? We'll keep an eye out for you. I'm hoping to hear about that Kushala story you mentioned."

"You betcha, handsome! That's one I never get tired of telling!" Mila grinned, waving at the two as they gathered up their equipment. "Oh, and watch out if you head up the mountain! That Rathian was not a happy camper. That goes double for the Tigrex."

"Considering we're just after some mushrooms, I think we'll steer clear of 'em," Deen nodded before sliding his helmet back on. "See you both back in Val Habar."

"Drinks on me!" Sain called as the two hunters began to make their way towards the opposite end of the field, earning a cheerful laugh from the huntress.

Mila then took a brief moment to check her pouch and make sure she hadn't lost anything during the excitement. Sure enough the bag was still stuffed full with a number of ores, crammed in beside a polishing rag, a whetstone, and a collapsible pickaxe, but most importantly the bloodrun jewel she had gone on the tour to get in the first place was still resting atop the pile of gleaming metals she had mined. She glanced back as Falia strolled on over, carrying a number of bloodied orange and blue Tigrex scales in her hand, as well as a couple fangs and a fragment of a claw.

"I wonder if I'll ever be able to go anywhere with you and not run into another member of the Mila Fanclub," the Handler mused as she slid the scales into her belt pouch. "So, tricked the poor sap into buying us drinks, did you? What a heartbreaker you are, mooching off of these lovesick Slagtoths like you do."

"Mooch is  _such_  a strong word…" Mila giggled, wrapping an arm around Falia's shoulder pulling her close with a wicked smirk. "But just think of how easy it'll be to get a free meal out of this too! Imagine baskets of warm, fluffy heaven bread and creamy Kirin butter, plate after plate of steaming dragon head and crispy king truffle! All stacked high as a mountain, with rivers of thick goldenfish brew flowing down the sides!"

" _Mmm_ … I suppose being friends with you  _does_ have its advantages…" Falia said, an equally-wicked grin crossing her lips. If there was one thing that could convince her to go along with almost anything, it was food... not that you could tell just by looking at her, considering she wasn't much stockier than Mila. "Must be why I stick around."

"Heehee… You know you love me."

"Something like that."

Mila laughed as Falia freed herself from under her arm, and the two began to make the trek back to base camp. The huntress occasionally stopped to take in her surroundings for just a little while longer, though aside from those infrequent pauses the walk went by rather quick, even despite her taking her time to continue surveying the grounds and chatting lightheartedly with Falia. Through the long field and up a staggered slope of grass occasionally broken by a stone 'step', past a few small herds of Aptonoth that ceased their grazing to watch the pair when they drew near, then onto the dirt path that led under a number of overreaching bridges of red stone. The terrain gradually shifted from grassy to rocky as they continued on along, entering a secluded canyon sheltered from above and around by the walls of red stone. A deep river ran parallel to the path the two walked on, flowing towards the plains from its source somewhere in the alley of crimson rock.

After about twenty minutes the base camp came into view. It wasn't too different from any other camp she'd seen since beginning her apprenticeship seven years prior; a large tent with a bed big enough to hold several people, held up by a metal furnace positioned near the center, a couple blue boxes filled with Guild-provided supplies, another few red crates meant for accounting items the Guild pays hunters to collect and more specific delivery requests, such as eggs, a small dock extending a couple yards over the river, and of course, a campfire pit surrounded by a number of logs to act as seats.

"Think I'm gonna grill up some steak before we make the walk back," Falia said, stepping towards the blue box and procuring a collapsible BBQ spit from within. "Want any? I've got more than enough meat, and I can whip up that honey glaze too."

"Delicious as that sounds, I probably shouldn't. Not all of us are so blessed with the Dente metabolism like you, Sweetheart," Mila chuckled as she settled onto one of the logs and pulled Sapphire from her belt, laying the cerulean blade across her lap and digging into her item pouch.

"Knowing how light you are, you could stand to gain a pound or two," her friend pointed out, carrying the spit over and setting it up over the firepit before dumping some kindling into the pit to ignite and retreating back to the tent for something.

"And risk losing this figure?!" Mila scoffed, dramatically sweeping an arm down her body and outwardly, extravagantly presenting herself towards the handler before snickering and taking out her polishing rag to begin caring for her sword. "That'd be a crime against every living being on the planet!"

"Yes, because I'm so sure the  _monsters_ care about how sexy you are. Can't wait to see the looks on everybody's faces back in Ran Fos when a wyvern entourage comes knocking on your door bearing flowers and gifts, looking for autographs and a date," Falia said, stepping out of the tent with a massive tome. The book was filled with papers and notes of all kinds—monster ecology, hunt requests, Guild documents, crafting instructions, recipes, maps with detailed gathering point locations, enough of a mess that Mila decided long ago to not delve too deeply inside, lest she lose her sanity within her dear friend's organizational hell. She settled into her seat on the log, leaning the tome against it before turning her attention to slathering honey on a hunk of Aptonoth meat she pulled from her own pouch.

"It'd definitely liven the place up, that's for sure!" the huntress snickered, lifting the gleaming blue sword before her to admire her reflection on its well-polished side, then giving the blade a quick spin to work on the other side. Falia rolled her eyes before sticking a long metal rod through the Aptonoth meat and setting it between the arms of the spit to cook over the roaring fire below.

"Mmhmm. Real talk though, why didn't you finish Blitz off? That would have looked great on both of our records… and y'know, the Fifth Fleet is only accepting the real best of the best. Soloing a titled monster would go a long way."

"I guess, but like I told you before: I didn't come out here to hunt anything. These things are called  _harvest_ tours for a reason! All I needed was the bloodrun jewel to have my brother's gift made. So, a jewel was all I took. Not a creature's life."

"Right, right, 'all things have value'… but still! You already beat the snot out of it. Why just let it run off and get killed by some other big nasty out there, or some lower ranked upstarts? That's just a wasted reward… which isn't even taking the materials into account, and we both know someone who's always in the market for more Tigrex parts."

"Pfft, Bart would just get all mopey about not being here to fight it himself!"

"I think he'd be sadder about not being invited on this little adventure in the first place. The guy's a teddy bear and you know it. A big, cuddly, incredibly jacked teddy bear."

"Heehee, yeah, those arms of his are  _nice._ But no, he's a bit too blabbery for this. It's supposed to be a surprise, remember? That's why you were the only one allowed to come. Not Bart, not Klavier, not Iggy, not Eli, not even Maki—and you know how Maki is."

"And here you had me thinking it was just a girls-only outing. I was wondering why Jyl didn't get an invite either."

"Nah, she's too much of a gossip. As much as I like me some dirty little secrets, I don't really need her blabbing to Corvus. Besides, you're special! BFFs, amirite?"

"Fair enough. But in any case, would it kill you to act a little more hunterly and off a few more monsters for me? It's admirable to have a moral code and all, but it looks good on my record as your handler if we actually clear some requests now and then."

"I already said I would, didn't I?  _Anything_  for you, Sweetheart," Mila winked, earning an exasperated sigh from her handler. Mila chuckled and lifted her blade up before her to examine the length—completely polished and freshly sharpened, the blade practically gleamed with new life, drawing a softer, more wistful smile from the huntress.

"Uh oh, she's thinking again. What's on your mind, Princess?"

"Oh nothing," Mila said, shaking her head to clear her thoughts and shooting her friend a cheery smile while returning her sword to its place on her belt. "What do you think about Corvus' promotion?"

"Hmm…" The handler frowned, but dropped it with a sigh, turning her attention back to the steak. "Well, he's definitely proving to be your brother. Twenty-one and already a surveyor? Doesn't happen all that often as far as I know. He's got a good head on his shoulders though. Always has. That's why I think he's earned it. Now if he can just learn to drop the attitude, I'm sure he'll make it far."

"He'll just insist its part of his charm. I do my best with him, but the little bugger just loves to be difficult!"

"Must run in the family," Falia said with a dry smirk, earning a short laugh from the huntress. Her expression hardened after a moment, and Falia's eyes glimmered briefly beofre she lifted the hunk of meat from the flames and into the air above her—it was nice and juicy, a delicious golden hue that glistened in the light whilst sweet, flavorful steam rolled off its sides. " _SO_  tasty! ...Ahem."

"I never get tired of watching you do that," Mila smirked while Falia's cheeks became tinted with the soft red of embarrassment. The handler set the steak down on the plate beside her and quickly set about cutting into it with a knife and fork.

"ANYWAYS, I just hope he doesn't get too in over his head. He's smart, but… well…"

"I know, I know, he's the kind of person that digs his nose too deep where it doesn't belong. But that's part of what makes him so good at it!"

"I suppose you have a point, but if he doesn't learn to be prudent he'll end up biting off more than he can chew," the handler said, plucking a piece of meat from the plate to eat. "Ran Fos might not be the most wretched hive of scum and villainy out there, but that doesn't mean the area doesn't have its share of dangers. There's a good reason some think the area a frightful place to live."

"Pfft! Buncha woosies if you ask me," Mila said with a roll of her eyes, untying her forehead protector and letting her hair loose, quickly puffing her lower hanging bangs to the left of her nose. "So there's a crazy serial killer or two running around. That happens all over the place."

"Only difference being this one's been around the block for  _hundreds of years_. Most usually have enough after one lifetime, not ten."

"Eh… okay, I guess that's fair. Your dad already has someone working on that case though, right?"

"Yeah, and in all fairness the incidents haven't been happening for a few years now… I'm probably just overreacting. Not that it isn't  _warranted_ , considering who I spend most of my time around," she remarked, pointedly jabbing a piece of steak on the end of her fork towards Mila.

"Hey, for the record? Most people would  _kill_  to have the position you have, Sweetheart," the huntress said coyly, pushing herself up and leaning over towards her friend with a sly smirk. "Especially considering that  _one time_ when we—"

"That does  _not_ —! Q-quiet, you!" Falia stuttered, her cheeks blushing a fiery red as she leaned away from Mila. In her momentarily distracted state, however, the handler made the devastating mistake of leaving her most precious place unprotected, and in that brief moment Mila made her move. Her head shot downwards… and she bit the remaining chunk of honey-glazed meat off the end of Falia's fork, earning a startled cry from her handler as she pulled her head back with an amused smirk and chewed the juicy morsel. Falia took a brief moment to stare in wide-eyed horror at the now-empty end of her utensil.

" _NOOO!_ My poor steak! Agh, I can practically hear it screaming… Why would you  _do_  that?! I thought you didn't want any!"

"Mm mmm! You sure do know how to cook 'em right! That is  _good!_ " the huntress laughed, wiping a small dribble of honey from her chin."Never said I didn't want any, just that I probably shouldn't. Emphasis on the 'probably'."

"Ugh, why are we friends again…"

"Because, I'm awesome, and you're just so darn  _cute!_ We're basically the coolest tag team  _ever._ Now eat up, Sweetheart! We've got a long walk back to Val Habar ahead of us!"

"Wait, we're  _walking?"_ Falia inquired, looking up at the huntress with a raised eyebrow. "Why? We had the Felyne taxi wheel us out here before."

"Yeah, but that's just so  _boring._ "

"You being bored means my legs are spared from unnecessary aching—and before you ask, no, I do  _not_ want another massage from you! Things are still tingling that I'm pretty sure should not be tingling."

"Heheh, alright, alright. You ride in the cart, and I'll walk alongside! Promise not to leave you in the dust!"

"I'd certainly hope not."

* * *

**Author Notes: Hello faithful readers! I hope you enjoyed the first action-packed chapter of my newest story, Heritors of Hereafter! Most of my work before this story is published to my fanfiction.net account, but I figured branching out for this one couldn't hurt much. AO3 sure is different... Anywho, while this story is technically a sequel to one of my previous works, I'm writing it to work as a standalone, so no sweat if you haven't read any of my previous stuff!**

**This is actually the first long story I've ever begun with an action scene rather than a simple meet and greet for the characters... But I wanted to try something new, considering "new" is sort of the whole idea behind this story. "New" also works well with Mila, as I've designed her to be pretty different from most of my other protagonists. What did you think of her, faithful reader? Or what about the action scene itself?**

**What I really wanted to do with Heritors was take a step away from the third gen games all of my other stories have been set in so far, so in a symbolic way a Tigrex encounter on the Ancestral Steppe seemed appropriate. I mean, who doesn't remember 4 Ultimate's intro? That being said, the 4th gen is a bit behind nowadays, so I'm going to be incorporating some elements from World into my story too! Mila and Falia are both packing grappling lines and Falia's got a slinger, but my personal favorite here is turf wars. I was pretty proud of the Rathian/Tigrex fight here, so let me know what you thought of it! Did you like it, dislike it, did you think anything could use clearer explanation... have any suggestions for fights you may want to see later?**

**Oh, and for those of you who played Monster Hunter Stories, the idea for naming monsters comes from that game. I like the idea of doing so since it lets me give a little extra character to the monsters themselves, which I think I've failed to do in the past. So, Heritors is going to be something of an amalgamation of 3U, 4U, Generations, Stories, and World. A little something for everyone!**

**Another new thing I'm doing with this story is voices. I figured it may help to picture the characters better if you know what they sound like, so I've been using actual voice actors as reference for each main character. Admittedly I get a lot of these voices from Fire Emblem Heroes due to how accessible the voice clips are and how varied the VAs are, but it also helps to put a character to the voice. For Mila, I imagine her voice as Cherami Leigh's, the VA who does Caeda and Mae, while Falia's is Nicole Balick, the voice of female Morgan.**

**And that about does it! If you liked what you saw, definitely follow this story for more goodness, and be sure to tell me how I did! I'm always happy to see feedback, positive or negative. Have a good one!**


	2. The Prideful Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the city of Ran Fos, a Guild investigator begins his first day on the job.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Monster Hunter, nor do I own Capcom. If I did I would probably be doing something else with my time instead of writing fanfics. All the characters that appear in this story belong to me unless otherwise stated.**

**Edited By: dashboardgecko**

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Chapter 2: The Prideful Raven

It was a grey morning in Ran Fos. Most were. Due to its proximity to the Flooded Forest in the west, the city was often visited by the residual clouds and storms that frequented both of those hunting grounds. It, in turn, was built to accommodate. It was a large, sprawling cityscape, constructed in the shape of a large circle with four main roads running in the cardinal directions, from which many other lesser streets branched out, creating narrow alleys and passages between the brick buildings that made up each and every structure in town. Ran Fos stretched out in a four-mile-wide circle, completely enclosed by towering walls made up of tough grey stone, lined with cannons and ballistae pointing out towards the surrounding wilds.

The roofs were all covered with the same curved red tiles, designed to funnel the rainwater into drains and pipes leading into the sewers below, or into systems that fed the excess back into nature. The cobblestone streets were gouged in the sides for much the same reason. Water was always flowing in this city, from heaven to roof and from roof to ground. Puddles filled any gaps in the cobblestone streets, rippling from the deluge coming from above, or splashing as another individual wearing tall boots stepped through them as they went about their business. Civilians traditionally garbed themselves in rain-resistant wear, usually long hooded coats made from Slagtoth or Wroggi hides, or umbrellas made from Piscine Wyvern fins.

The city was a pretty impressive marvel, really. It had stood tall for hundreds of years, constantly refining the systems in which the near-constant rainfall could be converted into a source of power and purified into a clean resource for the inhabitants. Its location had also proven beneficial in the past; formerly, Ran Fos served as one of several border cities between the nations of Venatoria and Jaagezuela, meaning it saw frequent travel from those heading in and those heading out. This usually meant by airship, as ground travel through the Flooded Forest was full of hardships and aggravations. While Sanska Landing in the southwest connected the Great Desert to the country between here and the Primal Forest far to the south, and was considered the primary connector between the former halves of the country, Ran Fos still saw enough hustle and bustle to thrive… though the Venatorian market crash several years prior, the complete destruction of Venatoria's desert capital Loc Lac, and the subsequent annexing of the failing country into Jaagezuela meant that it no longer exactly served as a 'border' town. It had remained a crossroads of sorts, but the connection of two lands warranted the need for more settlements, more places for the travelers of either land to come through. Now Ran Fos stood as one of many towns running parallel to the former border. The city of rain had long since passed its glory days.

This showed in its people. Many were families that had lived here for generations, others, arrivals that had settled only in recent years. The buildings never really changed, and the town hadn't grown too far outward in a long time—the only real indications of expansions being the old walls from centuries ago standing further inwards, and the addition of the airship fields and arena built into the outer walls like bumps in the even, precise curvature. That lack of substantial change was evocative of the mindset most had here. Old was good. New wasn't unwelcome, but old was good.

Ran Fos still ran rather smoothly. It saw frequent trade caravans and business from merchants across the conglomerate country of Maglea. Ran Fos was known for producing rather sturdy garb, and due to its crossroads position almost any kind of service could be found here. Bakers, smiths, tanners, tailors, mercenaries, the standard fare for most towns. Ran Fos also possessed the primary Guild Headquarters in the surrounding region, and had the largest airship company of any surrounding town to boot. The narrow, twisting streets were bridged by signs over shop doors, swaying on rusted chains in the wind and rain. The streets themselves were lit by glowstone, an ore that glowed brightly in the dark for as of yet unknown reasons—and yet another lucrative export from the city, as glowstone happened to be rather abundant in the flooded caves and passages beneath the nearby hunting grounds, contributing to a rather successful mining corporation that often hired local hunters as guards during their operations.

It was here in this rainy, grey city that Corvus Adler lived. He was a rather short individual of twenty-one years, standing barely six inches over five feet, but what he lacked in height he made up for in posture. He walked through the streets with shoulders back, head held high, his vibrant green eyes aimed directly ahead. Beneath the beaked green hood he currently wore, his brown hair was a controlled mess of flicks and feathered brown protrusions that somehow returned to its style no matter what he did with it. His features were equal parts smooth and straight, giving him an attractive-if-ordinary face mostly unblemished by scars or facial hair. He had broad shoulders and a well-built frame—not overly bulky or powerful, but certainly stocky for his height. The forest green coat he wore revealed a white collared tunic and a blue vest in the front, baggy black pants and brown boots lined with a trio of buckles on the outer sides. The only real damper on his appearance was the brown sling his left arm was held up in at the moment.

Even with his arm in such a state, though, he walked onwards with pride, a short smirk curling his lips. What didn't he have to feel glad about at the moment? Today was a rather important day, after all. He walked proudly down the main southern road of Ran Fos, occasionally glancing towards other civilians, or carriages drawn by large grey-bodied draft Aptonoths, or perhaps a sign advertising a café or shop nearby. His heading lay further south, though, closer to the walls of the city. His destination was the Ran Fos Guild Headquarters.

The structure was partially built into the wall nearby the gate—in truth, the entire wall could be considered the Guild's base of operations, as similar structures lay at each of the main gates and were connected by the hollow passages within the walls, but while the east and west saw the most traffic of hunters and merchants, he considered the south as the most important of the four. One, it was where he and his superior worked, and two, it was the closest one to where he lived. Coming to a halt some distance from the structure, he had to admit that for a Guild structure, it was very simple in design. The only real giveaways were the rain-soaked green banners emblazoned with a golden emblem of the Guild, and the decidedly castle-like construction that had sprung forth from the same minds that originally constructed the capital town of Dundorma several hundred years prior.

After taking a few seconds to let his eyes wander, he let out a short chuckle and proceeded towards the front entrance. He passed between the tall, broad shouldered lancers wearing green cloaks over their armor to ward off the rain whilst standing guard and entered the structure. The interior hall wasn't exactly lavish, only keeping a few green or red banners hanging on either wall as decoration, though the reason for the scarcity was fairly obvious—excess adornments would only get ruined by the water being trekked inside. The only real furniture in the chamber apart from some benches spaced between the banners was a wooden desk near the back of the entry hall, framed on the left side by stairs leading higher into the structure, and a door on the right leading into an office. Various glowstones embedded into the ceiling cast the mostly grey-stone room with a soft white glow, bouncing off of the Ran Fos Guild's green banners to paint the room a dull forest hue.

Shaking the droplets of rain from his coat and pulling his hood back, Corvus advanced further into the structure, waving at the woman working behind the desk—Isabelle, they sometimes got coffee together—and further up into the building, flashing his official Guild pin and license to the guards on the steps. He went up two floors into another large room, this one packed full of desks and walls separating them. He moved to the side as another man dressed in a similar green coat hurried passed him—Dominic, an acquaintance he'd first met upon enlisting with the Guild academy in Ran Fos—with a short hello.

"Congrats on the promotion!" Dominic called as he hurried down the stairs, waving a stack of papers towards him before rounding the staircase and disappearing from sight.

Corvus smirked proudly as he turned back towards the room, his eyes trailing down a path in the middle of the room towards the door leading into his boss' office in the back. Walking down the rows of desks he identified several other individuals he had been working with for the past couple years who from the looks of it had arrived only minutes before himself. Those who weren't too wrapped up in starting their own work or hurrying out the door shot him a smile or a wave, or the occasional 'welcome to the team' he'd been wanting to hear for so long. He kept his replies brief, returning waves and points and smiling assuredly towards the others. He  _belonged_ here, and he wanted to make sure they felt he knew that.

He came to a stop just outside the door, raising his hand to knock on the wooden barrier. It was rather lavish, with vines and leaves carved into it and numerous lines framing it into fourths, though it had a fair number of scratches and marks of age that had always given away just how old this room was. He heard a short reply from within telling him to enter, and at that Corvus pushed his way into the chamber, a broad grin crossing his face.

"Well well, here I am," he said with a proud, superior tone, his voice somewhat light yet deep. "Corvus Adler reporting for duty."

"And not a minute too late! Cutting it kinda close, but at least I won't have to give you a reprimand on day one, little bud," the man sitting behind the desk chuckled, pushing himself up.

He stood just under six feet tall and possessed a strong and muscular build from his past years as a hunter and Guild Knight, and was garbed in a far more ornate outfit than anyone else in the building. A deep green vest embroidered with gold, matched by a green cap hanging on the wall behind the desk beside a large hunting bow made from Green Nargacuga materials—the Midnight Farflight design, as Corvus had learned long ago. The man's black hair ran down his shoulders and upper back, the bangs in the front concealing the right of his yellow eyes. While over forty years of living had clearly aged his face, he had a positively youthful expression and tone, one that he'd always possessed for as long as Corvus had known him—the man fought off the concept of old age and stoic maturity like it was a monster. He was one of the five Guild branch managers that worked under the local Guildmaster, his work focusing on maintain and enforcing Guild regulations—in simpler terms, he was one of the Big Five of Ran Fos, Knight Captain Viper Dente. He let out a short laugh, and waved Corvus further into the room.

"So, how's that arm of yours holding up?" he asked, gesturing towards the sling.

"It's not going to hold me back if that's what you're asking," Corvus replied with a dismissive wave of his hand and a shake of his head. "One arm, two arms, makes no difference to an Adler. You can count on me to get whatever job you need done, Boss."

"Just the kind of attitude I need my new surveyor to have! I like it."

Corvus' grin widened at the title. The Guild was made up of many members, each with specific tasks and duties assigned to them. You had your average joes who handled the grunt work, officers to handle general peace and civility, knights to  _enforce_  general peace and civility, the Dragonwatch to track elder dragons and relay information about the hunting grounds to settlements, the incredibly-rare field handlers that would accompany hunters into the wilds for research and documentation purposes, and most important (to him) were the surveyors, individuals who would track distribution of resources around the city, review hunter reports on completed quests and hunts, and investigate discrepancies with those reports as well as local businesses and establishments that didn't quite meet the codes set in place to operate by.

Investigative work. Now that was his cup of tea.

"But enough small talk—we're on Guild hours after all. Your first assignment should be pretty standard, run-of-the-mill; a report a couple hunters submitted for a Royal Ludroth hunt the other day doesn't quite match up with what the Recovery Team came back with," Viper said, picking up a folder and holding it out, which Corvus took with an inquisitive raise of the eyebrow. He balanced it on his sling and flipped it open to read the contents while Viper continued. "The Enzo Brewery had a claim placed on that Royal Ludroth's dash extract, but when the team arrived, the 'Droth was dry."

"Think the hunters just nabbed it for themselves? Wouldn't be the first time one of 'em tried to squeeze a few extra carves into their pouch."

"It's a possibility, but that's for you to find out. Don't point any fingers unless you've got solid evidence. I'd recommend finding any info on the hunters that you can while you're here, then pay a visit to the Recovery Team at the west gate. Their report wasn't too specific, so you'll want to clear things up first. Shouldn't have to worry about the brewery—we've already sent an apology along and promised compensation. After you've gotten all that info, find the hunters, ascertain if they've actually broken the laws, and make sure they know there's a hefty fine to pay. I'd really hate to have to send our Knights after a coupla low rank scrubs, but they should know the rules."

"And if they're difficult?"

"We don't carry batons for decoration, kid. Just don't rough 'em up badly enough that they can press charges for excessive use of force. I know what you're capable of doing with that arm, so you know full well what I mean."

Corvus nodded and turned his attention back to the document in his sling, flexing the hand contained in the cloth strap. The limb wasn't broken, just… tired. It hurt the same way your foot hurt after sitting on it for too long, like pins and needles constantly pricking at it from all sides.

After reading over the report in full Corvus nodded towards Viper. "Alright, I'll get this handled before lunch. You can count on it."

"You'd better, else you're buying mine," the captain chuckled, though his face grew stern after a moment. "Listen, it's good to be confident, but don't kid yourself here. You've got no less than three schedules to match up with, and a couple hours of investigating too. The hunters might not even be in the city at the moment, and if they are, it's completely possible they might leave on a quest any minute now. These sorts of jobs can take a few days, Corvus. It'll take a lotta luck to have everything fall into place like that."

"Then I'm ready to cast the dice."

"Hm. Just remember not everything has to be a gamble, yeah? Particularly not official Guild work. That all being said… catch."

Corvus' eyes widened as the sheriff tossed a silver badge towards him, and he fumbled with the document in his sling to get his good arm up in time to catch it. Holding the badge in his palm, he looked over the intricate Guild patterning, and the title emblazoned across the base. His official Surveyor badge.

"Glad to have you on board, little bud. Now get out there and show me whatcha got!"

With that Corvus left the office and heading towards a row that contained a few empty desks. Glancing towards the plaques naming who worked at each, he eventually found his own name after a couple minutes and settled in to get to work, hanging his coat up on the post, slinging his bag around his chair, and setting his gun holster aside.

The first matter was learning who the hunters in the report were. Records were kept of each hunter in the city, separated into local or visiting groups. The folders were not nearly as numerous as one might expect—Ran Fos had an average of around ten-thousand occupants at any given moments, yet less than a twentieth of that was hunters. Not nearly the same as Dundorma, for sure, but even the capital had a shockingly small amount of hunters compared to how things had been before. Numbers had significantly dropped off since the days of the Master Corps and the great Battle of Tanzia several decades prior. The disastrous actions of Balestra Resplandor in the port and the desert capital of Loc Lac nearly crippled the country, with many citing him as the reason for Venatoria's inevitable collapse, never mind the faltering economy and political disarray. It couldn't be denied that his actions did unveil some truly troubling standards and practices though, which the replacement faction and eventually the Guild of the entire continent began to adopt. Among these sketchy practices were the ease of becoming a hunter, and the alarmingly low age restrictions to be registered as one. Harsher regulations were implemented, cutting many hunters out of their line of work and narrowing the field tremendously, all for the sake of creating a more effective hunting force with fewer early deaths.

People complained, but it was hard to argue with statistics.

Locating the names of the two hunters in the files, Corvus set to work checking into their information. Gustavo Cassus, hunter rank one, age 19; Mordecai Ferard, hunter rank three, age 22. Both officially registered as local hunters according to their records from the hunter's examination. The distinction between journeyman and local was always the most important bit of info to find out; locals were considered ones that primarily operated out of a single settlement and that specifically registered themselves as such, while journeymen instead traveled and took up work as they went. That didn't mean locals had to keep to a single hunting ground—though many often did—and being a journeyman didn't mean you couldn't settle down in one place for a few years. Hunters enjoyed certain benefits depending on which they signed on for. Locals got discounts on quest fees, but their priority for quest approval was lower outside of their stomping ground, something Journeymen like his sister didn't quite have to deal with. Corvus just appreciated that it kept all the paperwork clean and separate.

Both of these hunters were born and raised in Ran Fos though, passed the Hunter's Examination in Dundorma with fairly average marks, and were apparently friends since childhood. Didn't have many outstanding incidents of disorderly conduct or any violations of Guild law, so by all accounts they seemed like fairly typical hunters. Supposedly they both frequented a tavern on the eastern side of Ran Fos, so if he couldn't find them at their homes, that was the next place to check.

After pulling all that information together, a process that took about two hours, Corvus nodded to himself and pulled his gear on before heading out: a somewhat large satchel he wore over his coat that held his baton and various documents, and the large holster that contained his equally-large personal firearm, Jeopardy. Pulling his arms through the sleeves and readjusting his sling, the young Surveyor made his way down the stairs and back into the streets, his next destination being the western gate.

He pulled his hood up as he went on his way, hailing down an Aptonoth-drawn taxi wagon to carry him closer to the gate; he could have just walked through the connecting passages inside the city walls, or taken the track cannon (a thought that made him shudder) but he preferred traveling through the city. Most of the side streets were so narrow and cramped that it was almost impossible to fit a carriage down them, but since the main roads ran the length of the city, the wagons were a cheap way to get around that was easy on the legs.

The young surveyor looked out the side of the carriage as it bumped along the cobblestone street, zoning out the chatter of other passengers. It wasn't even noon yet, but the streets were already full of passerby and traders heading towards the center of town to set up their stalls. Trade caravans were a fairly common sight around these parts, definitely more than they were in the Venatorian half of Maglea. They brought all manner of wares from across the world to trade and sell, so a certain sense of adventure was always in the air when they came to town. His sister had always entertained the idea of one day joining a caravan herself and going on a country-wide traipse like the one the hunter of the Capital C had famously embarked on about a decade prior.

With those caravans came all sorts of individuals of various backgrounds—Wyverian smiths, business tycoons and traders, Felyne chefs and fighters seeking hunters to hire them, the Sea Folk from the Southern Isles and their own unique crafts… and even the occasional Hybrid, though crowds tended to part around those individuals. Ran Fos was certainly diverse, that was for sure.

Still, the number of hunters and caravaneers began to increase the closer he got to the western gate. Unsurprising, considering it and the east gate were the primary exits to the Flooded Forest and the Everwood respectively, but it generally meant there were far more standout individuals in the crowds. Corvus found himself eyeing each armored figure as his wagon clattered by, trying to pick out any of his or his sister's friends. Perhaps Ignatius, with his long-handled insect glaive, or maybe Desmond and his bulky gunlance and tower shield combo.

He frowned slightly as he looked on—he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that Mila had decided to go on a hunt at the same time as his promotion. She just announced she was off to the Val Habar for one thing or another and flew out the door, Falia in tow. Which… wasn't unlike her, but she usually at least brought along a couple of the others with her. He'd managed to run into most of them since his sister left a few days ago, and they were just as puzzled as he. Corvus figured he'd probably find out why when she got back though. It was probably just another case of her immense wanderlust getting the better of her.

The carriage clattered to a halt, and Corvus hopped out the side, tossing a few zenni to the driver before approaching the western Guild HQ. It was set up almost exactly like the southern gate, though the abundance of smithies and trading posts were a stark contrast to the quaint businesses and shops near his post. He pushed his way into the building and strode up to the desk, where a middle-aged man was sorting through a stack of papers.

"Something I can help you with?" he asked, glancing up from his work.

"Yeah, got a report about a janky Ludroth hunt report. Think I could make contact with the recovery team that was on the job?" Corvus asked, holding the document out to the secretary. The man frowned as he looked over the paper, then shook his head.

"Sorry, but team B went out already. They won't be back for a few hours at best. I can point you towards the Dismantler though—he always inspects each carcass personally, so anything you need to find out, you can probably get from him. Head upstairs, take a left, go straight through the bridge hallway, then down the first flight you'll see on the right. And, uh, if you've got a weak stomach, maybe ask the attendant there to fetch him for you. Things can get a little nasty in there."

"Think I'll be alright. Thanks for the help."

His heading clear, the surveyor followed the secretary's directions to the letter, walking across the enclosed span that stretched across the way into the city and down into the western processing wing. The greater chamber was just beyond a small room with another worker in a Guild uniform seated in front of. Quickly stating why he was there, the attendant scurried into the chamber to fetch the coroner, returning with an older man in a white and blue outfit stained in several places with red. He had wispy white hair and a pair of very small, round spectacles over eyes so narrow he appeared to be squinting perpetually—or maybe he was, considering how small his glasses were. Despite his age, though, he moved with a shockingly youthful spring in his step, quickly approaching Corvus and pulling a glove off his right hand.

"The surveyor, yes? Welcome, welcome! I am Morton Graves, chief, eh, 'coroner' of this side of Ran Fos, though most call my job the 'Dismantler'," he said, shaking Corvus' hand with a little too much fervor. "I understand you have some questions for me?"

Corvus cleared his throat a little before replying. "Yeah, it's about a Royal Ludroth recovery team B brought in the other day."

"Hmm… the one decapitated by a great sword, the one with its innards blown out by a gunlance, or the one with its throat collapsed by a hammer? I see a great deal of Royals, I'll have you know. Almost as if we live next to a forest full of them! Wait—we do! Ohoho…"

"Uh…" Corvus glanced over the report again, somewhat uncertain how to respond to that 'joke'. "Last one. The hammer."

"Ah! Yes, that one had quite a number done to it. I suppose the hunter responsible really hit the nail on the head!" Corvus blankly looked to the side, sharing an unamused glance and a sigh with the attendant while Morton chuckled at his own joke, then smiled as good-naturedly as he could manage and looked back towards the coroner.

"There was supposed to be a supply of dash extract taken from this Royal for a claim. Care to explain why that extract never showed up?"

"Well, it's simple, really—that Ludroth didn't have any usable dash essence in its body."

"What do you mean? I thought that was a chemical they produced that was necessary for maintaining their manes or something."

"A simple understanding of a greater whole, but I understand that is not your field. Perhaps it would be easier to show you; come with me, if you would."

Corvus shrugged as Morton turned and scurried back towards the door, trailing after the coroner into the large chamber dedicated to harvesting the parts from monsters. The first thing that hit him was the smell—the scent of dozens of dead monster carcasses was anything but pleasant. He cringed and brought a hand up to pinch his nose shut, following Morton along as he hurried past the long, flat, purple body of a Leviathan (Gobble? He didn't quite remember the name.) with its side split open and a huge number of spikes resting in a pile on a mat right next to it, not far from a number of bloodied yellow sacs and bones. Not far past that body was the mangled, wingless body of a Rathian (Who didn't know what a Rath was?), a few workers busying themselves cutting the wing membranes off some distance away, whilst another had been tasked with individually removing the plated scales from its tail. They continued on a ways past a couple more bodies that Corvus couldn't quite recognize—partly because monsters weren't his specialty, and partially because they were so thoroughly disassembled and skinned that they might as well have just been piles of meat and materials. Eventually the two came to a pause beside the somewhat-fresh carcass of a Royal Ludroth. The sight was... shockingly pristine compared to the other monsters he had seen. The damage wasn't nearly as extensive, at least. The carcass rested on its side, revealing a medium-sized hole in the sponge mane over its chest. He also saw that the creature's tail had been lopped off, and its sponge mane had been gashed deeply in several places.

"I thought it's head was supposed to be caved in."

"Oh no, that Ludroth was disassembled days ago. It would never work as an example! Now then, it is true that dash extract is necessary for a Royal Ludroth's mane to function as it does, but it specifically also allows for the mane to extract oxygen from the water around it and convert the excess fluid into watery mucus to spray when threatened. The essence functions to allow it to stay submerged in the water for a longer period of time than it otherwise would be able to. Leviathans lack gills, you see, hence why they all must come up to the surface to breath eventually."

The coroner gestured towards the beast's chest before continuing. "Royal Ludroths are a peculiar case in that their lung capacity is… small, for a creature of their size. This lack of capacity is made up for by the dash essence, which lets a Royal Ludroth stay underwater for longer than their lung capacity would allow for. When properly extracted and mixed with certain additives, it can become a very potent energy booster for folks like you or me. So a Royal could survive without any, but it would not function nearly as well as another with the essence contained in the two sacs in its body. The essence does not become 'extract' until it has actually been extracted. Fancy that!"

"And did the Royal team B brought in seem like it had lived any differently from others? Like it had been missing the extract before dying?" Corvus asked, keeping his nose pinched shut while Morton pulled his glove back on and strode over to the opening in the beast's chest.

"No, it was in fairly unremarkable condition. That being said, it was clear that whoever hunted the creature did attempt to extract some of the dash essence for themselves. You see, the sacs are located near the lungs, meaning the only way to reach them is by carving through the sponge mane and into the chest cavity, like so," the coroner stated, gesturing towards the opening in the Royal's chest before grabbing hold of a patch of the mane and peeling it aside with a grunt of effort. Corvus winced at the sickening sound the creature's flesh made, but forced himself to watch while Morton gestured at the beast's bloodied ribs. "At this point the process is rather difficult—a special extractor attached to the end of a potion bottle has to be poked into the sac to draw the essence out without causing too much damage or exposing the essence to any contamination. Breaking through the ribcage runs the risk of piercing the sacs, so the extractor prevents this from happening. Allow me to demonstrate..."

Corvus watched as the man procured a thin needle apparatus jutting from a jar cap from a nearby table, and fitting the head onto hose leading to a large container, he carefully jabbed the needle between the ribs. A thick yellow fluid began to fill the container then, and though it did make him feel slightly queasy the man urged him to come closer and watch. While it was hard to see, he could make out the organ in the creature's chest, and as he watched it slowly began to shrivel up until it closely resembled a prune.

"Seems simple enough... what makes the process difficult?"

"Apart from hunters typically just bashing whatever part of the body they can get at? A single error can puncture the sac and cause all the fluid to leak out into the body. Once that happens, the essence becomes contaminated, and otherwise useless for anything. That is what occurred with the Royal in your report."

"So… the hunter just messed up."

"That is the puzzling part," Morton sighed, leaning in close to inspect the sacs through the ribs. "Both sacs were empty. However, one seemed as though it was completely drained through an extractor, then slit by a carving knife. You can tell based on the shriveled appearance they take when the extractor is used. The other sac was  _only_ split by a carving knife, which caused the contents to spill out without shriveling the organ; they quite resemble a deflated balloon when that occurs. Based on what I recall from the alignment of the cut, it appeared to have been done in the same swing. Perhaps it  _was_  simply an error—the hunter pierced deeper than intended while carving at the mane, mistakenly pierced the sac with his or her blade. And yet, the other sac was drained quite professionally, and the gash in that appeared to have been caused after extraction… in any case, any dash essence within the creature spilled from the punctured sac and became unusable. The company will have its delivery once this Ludroth has been, eh, harvested."

"I see… well, that's all I needed to know. Thanks for the help, Mister Graves. Have fun… doing this stuff, I guess."

"But of course! Having fun is more or less the only way to get through each day with my sanity intact!"

"Uh…"

"Ohoho, merely a jest, my young friend! Do take care!"

Corvus quickly made his way out of the chamber, shuddering a little as he shut the door behind him and made his way up the stairs, across the bridge, and out onto the streets. He'd definitely have to get used to that… It was one of the uglier parts of the job, he supposed. He just hoped the time spent in the chamber hadn't left him smelling like a rotting carcass. That didn't quite help his chances with the ladies.

He hopped into another taxi carriage and directed them towards eastern Ran Fos. He figured that, as it was the middle of the day, he'd be most likely to find the two hunters at their usually hang out having lunch than he would find them at their lodging. He mulled over what he had learned from the coroner as the Aptonoth-drawn wagon clattered along the cobblestone streets, planning out a way to get the truth from the hunters. There was evidence of foul play, but there was also just as much evidence of a simple mistake… the claim didn't technically prevent the hunters from taking some of the dash extract for themselves after all. But the hunters would have been told how much they were permitted to take before the hunt began too…

As the wagon came to a halt not far from an alleyway that would take him farther in, and while stepping down with a few other passengers Corvus decided on an approach that would get hopefully get him the truth. He paid the driver and went on his way, glancing around at his surroundings. Admittedly the tall walls and narrow walkways made the city a little sketchy in some places, though he never really saw it as such. Ran Fos wasn't the only place with the stigma that came with tight corridors and crowded cities, though it had its own darker myths and scaretales. He chuckled at the thought before making his way through the mess of shops and eateries, eventually happening upon the tavern his quarry frequented—the Jumping Jaggi.

"Definitely not as endearing as the Cup of Jho," he muttered, glancing up at the roughly painted sign depicting a couple of the small purple creatures before pushing his way into the building.

The inside was rough and shamble-y, without much color apart from dark brown wood and orange candle light, though there was an abundant usage of Jaggi hides as decorations, painting the whole room a peculiar shade of purple. Barrels acted as chairs, tables were stained with spilled ale and food, the floors were scratched and cracked… and the place was chock full of patrons making the place look even rougher than before. The barkeep and few waitresses he saw were busying themselves hurrying between tables, taking orders and delivering food to hungry mouths. The two tables that actually had hunters at them caught his eye; one was occupied by a trio of people, two of whom looked to be merchants and the third being a bowgun-wielding huntress, while the other table had a pair of burly hunters eating and laughing loudly to one another about something. One was garbed in metal Alloy armor, while the other had significantly more impressive muddy brown, castle-like armor. Corvus immediately went up to the counter, winking flirtatiously at a passing waitress, and came to a stop in front of the bar keeper.

"Need a drink, Guild boy?" the man grunted as he slid a full tankard across the counter to a patron seated further down the bar.

"Nah, not much of a drinker myself. Got a question you could answer for me instead though. Gustavo and Mordecai; either of them here?"

"Sure are. Two fellas at the table behind ya. Just signed on for a quest too, so you should probably get whatever business you have with 'em over with before they finish eating."

_Lucky me,_ Corvus thought with a slight smirk, nodding and tugging at his green coat as he stood. He made sure his surveyor badge was proudly on display, then walked towards the table the two were seated at. The hunters both paused and glanced over as Corvus slid onto one of the unoccupied barrels at their table and rested his sling-wrapped arm on the edge of the wooden surface.

"G'day, gents. Would you happen to be Gustavo Cassus, rank 1, and Mordecai Ferard, rank 3?"

"That's us," the brown-armored hunter replied with a furrowed brow. "Who's askin'?"

"My name's Corvus Adler, and as you should be able to tell, I'm with the Guild. Think you can answer a couple questions for me? Shouldn't take too long."

The hunters both exchanged a short glance before the Barroth-armored fellow ran a hand through his thick black beard and sighed. "Can't imagine what for, but if there's been a problem, we're happy to help. Right, Gus?"

"What he said," the Alloy-garbed hunter agreed. Despite his tone his eyes nervously flicked to Mordecai, but the older hunter just shot him a glare as if to say 'calm down' and the two returned their gazes to the surveyor. Corvus smirked in amusement before reaching into his satchel, pulling out the report and sliding his reading glasses on.

"So, we got a report from the both of you about a Royal Ludroth hunt. It was attacking a riverside settlement, disrupting a rafting business. Sound familiar?"

"Yeah, the old fellow that owned the place thanked us a lot for that," Gus said with a cheery smile. "It was a pretty great hunt too. I was really on my game that day."

"I'll bet. Says here you hacked its tail off, wounded its mane, and broke a few pieces off its crest. You received bonus rewards for that, right? Subquest details said you'd get a few extra spoils and zenni for chopping the tail, along with an additional carve."

"Yeah, we got our rewards. What of it?" Mordecai grunted. "We got paid and rewarded fairly for doing our job. We ain't been complainin' about it."

"Just making sure, no need to get defensive," Corvus assured, tapping the bottom of his pencil on the sheet. "So you each received two claws, two bundles of Royal Ludroth scales, a patch of its sponge hide, a fragment of the crest, and a section of the tail, along with some honey, Snakebee Larvae, and a few armor spheres? That sound about right?"

"Yeah, that's… that's everything. Carved a few extra claws off for my swords too, but I reported those. Rules are three carves, so yeah, three carves," the younger hunter nodded quickly, once more glancing towards Mordecai. "And uh, Mordecai took a few bones and a bit of dash extract just before the recovery team arrived."

"Which we also reported."

"Hmm. How much would you say is a 'bit' of dash juice?" Mordecai's brow furrowed further at Corvus' inquiry. "Guild regulations state the equivalent of a single carve is twelve ounces, or one potion bottle's worth. Since you reporting carving two medium-sized bones, that means only a single bottle's worth was within permission. Plus, there was a claim on that Royal's dash essence by the Enzo Brewery, so you should have been informed that one bottle was all the two of you were allowed. You didn't happen to take more than that… did you?"

"Can't say I did. It's like you said—one bottle was all I took. I used the bit I had to make some dash juice for Gus, but that was it."

"Huh. Interesting. Cuz uh, says there wasn't even enough to fill a single bottle halfway when the Guild got to it."

"W-what? Wait, what do you mean?" Mordecai grunted, his face paling slightly.

"Exactly what I said. Both sacs were completely empty."

"But that's not… That can't be possible, I only took a few—I mean, uh…"

"A few… what?"

"Maybe the thing was already dry?" Gus cut in quicky with a nervous chuckle. "I've heard a few other hunters say they've tried to extract some, only for it to fail…"

Corvus smiled and chuckled lightly, gesturing towards the younger hunter with his pencil. "Then why would your friend have reported taking a bottle at all? He already admitted to using it to make you some dash juice, after all."

"W-well, that's not really what I… I meant to say that, uh…"

"Gus, shut it…" Mordecai hissed, making the younger hunter clamp his jaw closed. He then turned his gaze back on Corvus. "Alright, Shorty. What is it you want from us?"

"Oh, nothing much, Beardo. A little honesty would be nice." A vein bulged on the side of the hunter's head at that remark, though Corvus kept his gazed steely. "How much extract did you take?"

"Just. A bottle."

"So, what happened to the rest of it then? You can't expect me to think it just miraculously disappeared into thin air."

"I don't know, maybe some poachers came in and swiped the rest! All I'm saying is, me and Gus are  _innocent._ "

"Uh huh. Well, even if there were reports of poachers in the area, what opening could they have had to do that? I thought Gus here said you finished collecting all your carves right before the recovery team arrived. So is Gus lying, or are you lying?"

The brown-clad hunter's brow twitched irritably at Corvus while a drop of sweat ran down Gustavo's head. He was pushing them into a corner, and they knew that. Gus opened his mouth to speak, but Mordecai shot him a look to shut him up before turning to Corvus.

"Maybe some poachers were lying in wait for us to finish collecting our carves. I recall Gus and I happened to need to use the bushes after that fight. Poachers come in while we're away, just before the recovery team shows up, they swipe the extract, and book it, leaving us none the wiser. Make me and my partner here look like the bad guys in the process."

Corvus nodded his head from side to side and glanced upwards with an exaggerated frown. "I suppose that's a plausible explanation… only, taking almost two dozen potion bottles in that short a timeframe is completely unrealistic and frankly kinda asinine, especially if you're trying to not screw up the extraction process. You know how the process works, right?"

"Of course I know how it works! I'm a hunter who lives next to the damned Ludroth central of Maglea!"

"Then you know it isn't feasible. Just tell me the truth, man. I don't want to heckle you any more than you make me, but I will heckle you to the moon and back if I gotta."

"Cai didn't take all of it!" Gus blurted out, earning the attention of the other two—and the rest of the tavern that hadn't already been keying in on what was going on. "I know he didn't!"

"Gus, what're you—?!"

"No no, let your friend continue," Corvus said, glancing towards the metal-clad hunter. "Please, do go on."

"H-he's not a bad guy! Look, we… we took more than we reported. One whole sac. We split the bottles between us, and Cai cut the empty sac with his knife so it would look like an accident. Said it would be better if we played dumb and pretended not to know. But that's  _all_ we took! There should still have been another full one in its body for the brewery's claim!"

"I see… Cai, is your friend being honest?"

"…Yes, he is," the carapace-clad hunter growled, clenching his fists angrily and slamming one onto the table loudly enough to silence the tavern. "But you know what?! That mass-produced garbage isn't even  _worth_ the price they ask per bottle! And the Guild regulations? Pah, they already steal enough of our carves and rewards as it is! What's wrong with taking a little back for once?! If you came out here looking for a confession, then there ya go! Happy?!"

"Oh, definitely. A job well done always puts a smile on my face, and my job was to find out what became of all the dash essence," Corvus sighed, removing his glasses and sitting up straight, staring the hunter straight in the eyes with a proud smirk. "You took too long a swing with your knife and split the other sac. I wasn't accusing you of taking ALL the essence, only some of it. In all honesty the thing that really baffles me is that you didn't just report it as an accident in the first place. Coulda saved yourselves a whole lotta trouble if you just did that instead of playing dumb… but I can tell who has more brains between the two of you."

Mordecai's face reddened with fury, while Gus simply shot his friend a pleading look. Corvus maintained a steeled, lofty expression. "Look. The Guild makes the rules, the hunters follow them. Want change? Great! You're going about doing it the  _wrong way._ What you both did is a punishable offense, and it cost both the Enzo Brewery and the Guild a lot of zenni, and it could definitely cost you your  _licenses._ If you ask me it was all a complete waste. So, I'd consider my next move carefully if I were you. Could mean the difference between making things easier or harder on yourselves."

The surveyor's gaze trailed downwards the Mordecai's hands, which had shifted to grip the edge of the table, causing the wood to creak from the strain. He was practically shaking in place now with anger, and the plates and silverware clattered slightly from the shudders sent through the table.

"Cai, wait, it's not worth-"

"I know it ain't worth it, but dammit if I don't want to slug this cocky bastard across the room!"

"Threatening a Guild official now too? You must  _want_  a visit from the Knights or something."

That last comment finally made the hunter snap, and with a loud roar he flipped the table up towards Corvus. The surveyor let out a shocked yelp and threw himself to the side as the wooden table crashed into the seat he had been sitting on, narrowly avoiding being caught under it. Food and drink spilled to the floor all around them, and Corvus cursed lightly as a half-eaten hunk of meat bounced off the side of his coat and left a noticeable stain, though his attention snapped back to the hunter storming his way, fists clenched with fury. Gus shouted at him to stop, but the attempt fell on deaf ears as Mordecai wound up for a punch.

The surveyor pushed himself up and hopped back a couple paces to avoid the blow, reaching his unslung arm into his bag and pulling his telescoping baton from within. The device snapped open and briefly sparked near the tip as the segments locked into place, causing the hunter to hesitate for a moment, but only a moment. He stormed towards Corvus unflinchingly, leaving himself wide open to Corvus thrusting the electrified tip of his baton directly into the hunter's chest. There was definitely a shock, but Corvus blinked in surprise as the hunter appeared completely unfazed by the attack—Mordecai even lifted a hand to the device and wrapped his fingers around the end, firmly holding it in place.

"Think this dinky little spark stick will work on Barroth plating?!" he sneered, pulling an arm back. As the fist flew towards his face, Corvus' mind briefly flashed back to a discussion he had with his sister about the ecology of the monster known as Barroth some years prior, after she had faced one in the single's round of her hunter's examination. Weak to water when mudded, weak to fire without the mud, always resistant to electricity.

Suddenly he wished he had been paying closer attention.

The strike knocked him back onto a table with a pained shout, which crashed down to the floor along with him while those seated there quickly pushed away from the brawl. He let out a short groan and lifted his now-empty hand to the already-swelling mark on his cheek, shaking his head clear and staggering up to his feet.

"Oookay, that one hurt," Corvus winced, rubbing at his jaw. Some of his teeth felt a little loose, but as far as he could tell none had been knocked out. Lucky day. "Think I'll upgrade that threat to actual assault now."

"Let's see you try when I break your other arm, you smug asshole!"

"And  _another_  count of threatening an official. You are on a  _roll_ today, Mordecai."

The hunter growled and stomped towards Corvus again, raising a fist and throwing a powerful punch his way again, and Corvus reacted by ducking and juking to the side, reaching back for the holster underneath his coat. It was a somewhat awkward draw to make considering it was positioned for his other hand, but the surveyor was able to get a hold on the grip of his pistol, whipping it from its holster and twirling it around his finger once before aiming it directly at the hunter. Unlike the baton, the mere sight of this over-sized, break-action, revolver-like hand-cannon was enough to stop Mordecai in his tracks.

"Ah ah, that's about enough. Wouldn't want me to put a fist-sized hole in that Barroth plating, eh?" he grinned, staring down the sight of his gun at the hunter's pale face. "Little bit of warning for ya, Jeopardy here isn't your average anti-armor pistol. She's built to floor  _monsters._  I can take an Arzuros down from twenty yards out with a single shot from her… and buddy, you're no Arzuros."

"That… you're just bluffing!"

He replied first by pulling the hammer back, filling the long-silent tavern with an audible  _click_ as it snapped into position.

"I wonder, exactly how much are you willing to wager on that gamble? Stand down, or find out the hard way."

Mordecai swallowed hard and took a step back, muttering a curse under his breath as he dropped his arms in defeat. "Alright, alright, enough. Mark me down for whatever, but leave Gus out of it! It was all my idea! I took the extract, I made the juice, and I did it so he could stay at peak condition during hunts. We took one sac's worth, and that was it. The other one was probably on me too… but it  _was_ an accident."

Taking the fall for his friend? Well, it was a noble act at the very least. Gus' own expression was stunned and fearful, but didn't really suggest Mordecai's claims  _weren't_ honest… With a short huff Corvus uncocked the hammer of his gun and returned Jeopardy to her holster, an act that made the entire tavern seem to sigh with relief.

"Alright, look. The fine is ten-thousand zenni, which is to cover collateral and properly compensate the brewery. You can either pay it at one of the Guild offices immediately, or you can take a seventy percent deduction from all your hunts until it's paid off in full. That goes for  _both_ of you. Got it?"

"Wait, then what about… all of this?" Mordecai asked, glancing down and gesturing towards the mess left behind by their brief fight. "You're not…?"

"I'm feeling generous. Doesn't seem like anything's broken or in need of replacement anyways. Just make sure you pick up after yourselves—I'd hate to hear one of the lovely waitresses had to do it instead," he grinned, glancing aside and winking towards another one of the tavern workers. He then turned back towards the two hunters and shot them both a decidedly friendly smile. "Thanks for your cooperation.

After retrieving his baton from where Mordecai had tossed it and the document from atop the chair it had landed on (fortunately saving it from being doused in ale) the surveyor turned and left the Jumping Jaggi, hearing a few muttered whispers from the others inside about what had just occurred.

He understood why some hunters did things like that just based off of what his sister told him. The Guild restricted the amount of materials that a hunter could get per hunt, and occasionally would lay claim to the rarer materials that hunters needed for armor and weapon forging. This notoriously included gems, which most jewelers would try and lay claim to before hunters even had a say in the matter. This, combined with the already-harsh requirements to become a hunter in the first place, left a lot of them feeling very disgruntled and cheated, especially veterans.

Even so, the rules were the rules. They helped keep the city humming along and the populace happy, which was what he ultimately wanted to do. He was an Adler, after all! A descendant of heroes, dragonslayers, legends! He had a history to live up to! And live up to it he would, in his own way.

This was just the next step for him.

* * *

**Author Notes: Thanks for reading this chapter about a vertically challenged person!**

**Here we find ourselves in the capable hands of our other main protagonist, Corvus! Unlike most MCs I've seen in MonHun fics, Corvus isn't a hunter at all. I kinda toyed with this idea in Frontier Lineage and Driven, but I decided that an interesting approach for this story would be a twofold one, where I can delve into not only the changes to the world of hunting with Mila, but the newer inner workings of the Guild too, which is Corvus' field. In this way their perspectives and roles can be very distinct, yet obviously interlinked! What do you think about him thus far, faithful reader?**

**Much like his sister, I also had Ming draw Corvus! Same deal as last chapter's link, just replace the /dot/'s with periods and it should work just fine.**

**drive /dot/ google /dot/com/open?id=1praPefYUPLLkxnkFCU6x_ttYtZoNt8Re**

**The setting of Ran Fos is also pretty fun, as it's the first non-game location I've written as a main setting. A lot of my earlier works took inspiration from Assassin's Creed games, but this one is only somewhat alike in those regards. Rather than outfits or weapons, it's the city. I based Ran Fos off of Paris and London from Assassin's Creed Unity and Syndicate respectively, as well as my own experiences with European cities. As for the name, originally it was an anagram for 'France' cuz I started brainstorming this story when I was playing Unity, but when I moved away from those elements more I came to realize it also works as a super shortened way of saying 'rain forest' too. Wordplay! But, what do you think of the setting so far? Fitting for a MonHun story, or not so much?**

**As for character voices, given Corvus' personality I figured the best voice for him would be Todd Haberkorn, especially like how he portrays male Morgan and Joshua in Fire Emblem Heroes. Kinda like a snide know-it-all. And for returning Master Corps veteran Viper, he actually DOESN'T have a voice from Fire Emblem. No, the only VA I thought did him justice is Reuban Langdon, aka the voice of Dante from the Devil May Cry series! Yes, I'm still very excited for DMC5. I don't think I'll ever NOT be excited for that game.**

**Moving into the world of gaming, I did invest in Generations Ultimate. Moving back to the clunkier old format of Monster Hunter after all the quality of life improvements and streamlined combat system of World was... jarring, to say the least. While the game is definitely a blast, I definitely find World to be a better experience for myself. It's not really the challenge or the number of monsters in the game that matters much to me when picking. I just really like the environments and ecosystem, and how they make the monsters out to be less than just killing machines and more like actual ginormous animals. But that's just me! Which of the games do you prefer? Be sure to let me know!**

**Anyways, I'm trying to keep my notes short from here on out, so I'll cut it here! Be sure to let me know what you thought worked or what didn't work, what you liked or disliked, what you had for breakfast, anything at all really! I just want to have some interaction with my readers.**

**Have a good one, faithful reader!**


	3. Life in the City of Rain

Corvus spent the rest of that first day following up on other suspicious reports, fortunately avoiding further conflict with any hunters. To his unsurprise, most of the incidents were from older hunters, individuals who had been at the game for a lot longer than the likes of Gus and Mordecai. He got a similar story each time; hunters bemoaned the days of old when they could carve whatever they wanted, have whatever they wanted made easily, got paid more, etcetera etcetera. Usually these veterans made much smaller offenses—certainly not the Grand Dash Juice Heist Gus and Mordecai attempted. It was just a few extra claws here, another yard of hides there. The fines were appropriately small, and in several cases he determined were just genuine accidents, but Corvus had to make it very clear each time that repeated offenses did add up, and if they became enough of an issue the hunters' licenses could end up suspended or worse.

Having completed two investigations and making reasonable headway on a third, Corvus thought it had been a pretty productive day overall though, a sentiment Captain Viper shared. While he did express some concern over the way the incident at the Jumping Jaggi escalated and told Corvus not to go out of his way to press too many buttons, he congratulated the surveyor on a good if not average first day... before rubbing in the fact that he had lost their bet and as such owed the captain a lunch. Luck was a fickle mistress indeed.

The next couple days were more or less similar to that first one for Corvus, as had this third one. Like the others the shift had felt like it went by rather quickly, despite the clock across the room already reading six pm. The reason for that was today's peculiar highlight. A huntress had attempted to carry a fertilized Rath egg into the city, which broke about six different laws and violated twice as many apartment safety protocols last he checked, and trying to track her—and the egg—down turned into more than a chore than he'd been hoping for. Still, the search had at last ended with the egg being confiscated, meaning the apartment complex the huntress lived in wouldn't be dealing with a baby Rath problem, and no one there was going to be lit on fire in the foreseeable future.

Striding over to his workstation with a shake of his head, Corvus winced slightly as his jaw tingled a bit. Three days had passed, yet the bruise Mordecai had left was still there… Corvus grumbled to himself as he removed his bag and began to put away some folders and documents for other assignments to do in his desk. He glanced over as he heard Captain Viper say something in a hushed tone to another surveyor, then turn and begin to stride over to his desk. He was already carrying his own bag and was dressed to leave.

"Well, little bud? How'd it go?"

"Mission accomplished, boss… but I can't for the life of me understand how she managed to sneak an egg of that size into the city. Might want to shoot a message to the higher ups, make sure the guard detail at the gates are doing their jobs. Someone on the darker end of the moral spectrum could really have done some damage."

"Fair point, none of us want a repeat of that Ludroth breeding ring incident," the captain sighed, scratching his chin thoughtfully before grinning. "Still, I couldn't help but laugh when I was reading that report! Reminded me all too much of those Riders in Gildegaran. Things sure are different in that part of the world... all bright and colorful and strangely proportioned."

"So the whole 'twelve-year-olds riding on the backs of monsters' thing wasn't different enough for you?"

"No, what really sealed the deal was the 'twelve-year-olds saving the world' bit. I'll admit I had no idea  _what_ Guildmaster Horatio was thinking over there. Sure, everything worked out fine in the end, but putting the fate of an entire country into the hands of kids like that? Can't quite say I'm comfortable with the idea even now."

"With all due respect, I don't think there's a single Guildmaster that  _isn't_ weird in some way. There's Chief Maijah in Yukumo with her second person speak, Dukamis the drunken sailor, Maynard the cowboy…" Corvus paused what he was doing and frowned. "What even is a 'cow' anyways?"

"Dunno, but it sounds delicious. In any case, wyverians have their quirks. Always have, always will."

"Mm. So uh… not to be rude, but did you need something, boss? Or am I free to go? My shift's about up, so…"

"Ah, not particularly. You've got enough on your plate for the next couple days I think. Nothing real pressing has come in either, but I'd like you to get the hang of things more before I assign you to a bigger case. Plus, it's the end of the day. I'd rather not dump anything on anyone unless it's actually urgent."

"Gotcha. Just give me a holler if you need something—Adlers get the job done."

"Ah, great. Not even here two seconds and he's got the pride going already." Corvus and Viper both turned at the voice of Falia, who had just entered the room and had approached while they were conversing. She had a forest green Guild coat much like Corvus' on over her field handler attire, under which her massive tome was slung to protect it from the rain. "Guess some things never change."

"Falia! Welcome back, sugarplum," Viper chuckled as she came to a stop beside him, patting a hand on her shoulder and grinning wide. "How was Val Habar?"

"Pretty nice. No Dah'ren Mohran attacks, wind didn't blow too much sand into my eyes, couple neat caravans in town… very nice free meal near the end of it too. The Steppe was alright too I suppose. Emphasis on the 'was'. Quiz time, Short Stuff," the handler said, turning towards Corvus and resting her hands on the end of his desk. "Who do you think pissed off a Rathian and a Tigrex, caused a rockslide, then made a forest implode in on itself? Three guesses, first two don't count."

"Hmm, let me think. Mila, Mila, aaaaaand… Mila."

"Bingo."

Corvus snickered lightly. It was almost more fun learning about what his sister got up to through Falia than it was hearing it directly from Mila. Mila was always so flashy and extravagant when she told stories, and that always had a certain charm to it, but then there was Falia's blunt, matter-of-fact way of telling exactly what transpired. No embellishments, no bells or whistles, just the facts. That things still tended to be larger than life anyways was perhaps the best part.

"Definitely sounds like an eventful trip," Viper grinned. "Almost reminds me of the shenanigans Wes and I got up to back in the Master Corps. Have I ever told either of you about the time we—"

"—surfed down the side of a volcano, yes, about a million times. Dad, I get that it's your favorite story and all, but it does get a  _little_ old to hear it every other week."

"Bah, just wait until you do something like that with Mila! Then you'll get how I feel."

"Yeah, uh, no. If the day comes when I get caught up in any of that girl's mayhem I'd be lucky to be more than a stain at the end," Falia said with a roll of her eyes, smiling after a moment or two of deliberation. "But I suppose we do have other 'shenanigans' we can get up to that are less…  _perilous_. Like I said, the free dinner at the end of the trip was  _tres magnifique._ "

"Speaking of dinner, wanna go somewhere to celebrate another safe return?" the captain asked, glancing towards the clock mounted on the wall by the exit. "It's not terribly late, but Kathy and I  _sorta_ emptied the pantry while you were gone, so we've got nothing at home."

"Color me unsurprised. But that does work out in my favor—Mila invited us to the Eagle's Perch," she replied, earning a broad grin of realization from her father.

"Hah, excellent! I haven't had Wes' cooking in almost a week!"

"You should come along too, Corvus," the handler stated, turning her gaze back towards him. "We'll call it an occasion for your new promotion."

"I can eat there all the time," the surveyor replied pointedly as he turned his back to them, reaching down to tuck a folder with additional hunt reports into his bag and to make sure everything that was supposed to be there, was. He couldn't help but frown at the invitation, though neither of them saw his expression change. "How about a café or… someplace a little quieter? Preferably someplace where I  _don't_  have to deal with my Dad any more than I do already."

He heard Falia sigh at his remark, and Viper shifted in place somewhat uncomfortably. They already knew his opinion towards his father. The fact that they even suggested it was ridiculous.

"Well, sucks to suck, Short Stuff. In her  _infinite_  wisdom Mila predicted you might be difficult," Falia said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "She asked that I relay a message.  _Ahem…_  'Be here or I'll kick your butt to next Tuesday and back!" she said in a shockingly-accurate mimicry of Mila's voice. "I'd personally recommend listening—she's got something planned for you."

"Wait, she… she does?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder at the handler, only to find that she had turned already and grabbed hold of Viper's arm to pull him along, earning a startled grunt from her father.

"Yup! Guess you'll find out what that is if you show up there at eight o'clock. See you later, Corvus."

Corvus watched after the two as Falia dragged Viper along behind her towards the staircase, leaving him mostly alone on that floor save a few individuals who worked the later shifts or were packing up to go themselves. One such late worker was the surveyor Viper had briefly spoken to before approaching Corvus' desk, a larger man several years his senior named Demitri. He had short hair of a loud orange hue, lime green eyes, and a broad, angled face. He let out a short chortle as he patted Corvus on the shoulder roughly, shaking him from his thoughts.

"C'mon Corvus, no need to be so difficult," he laughed, stepping into Corvus' view. "Not like ya got much to lose. Besides, my brother's going to be providing the entertainment there tonight!"

"Klavier? Hopefully not on that oversized battle flute of his," the surveyor scoffed. "I don't care how good he is, that 'instrument' does  _not_ produce anything that should be called 'music'."

"Then you're in luck! He's busting out his civilian-grade one," Demitri grinned. "Little softer on the ears for non-hunter folk, and he can play more than a couple songs on it. And if that doesn't tickle your fancy, he may have mentioned an upcoming show he'd be doing alongside a certain Untouchable Huntress once or twice. Mayhap it's tonight?"

"Is that why she'd been practicing lately…? Hmm. Alright, I  _guess_ I'll go," Corvus sighed. Mila was plotting something, that much was for sure. The whole situation had 'surprise party' written all over it. Having figured that out, it would be in poor taste for him not to show up… another factor his sister likely orchestrated. She proved time and time again to be a master of guilt-tripping him. But, he supposed he could at least find some comfort in knowing that she hadn't gone on that quest because she had forgotten his promotion or something. "What about you? Gonna try and make the show too?"

"I wish. Captain's got me working a case of particular sensitivity, so I've got some digging to do elsewhere tonight. Be sure to listen hard for me too, got it? I'd give anything to hear the two of 'em play."

"You mean, aside from your job."

"Oh  _haha_   _ha_. Yeah, anything aside from my only means of income," Demitri said with a bemused grin. "Once you decide to stop flirting around and try to settle down with someone, you'll get where I'm coming from."

"Where's the fun in that? If you aren't in a different lass' bed every week, you aren't really living!"

"Then I suppose  _you_  aren't really living then, shorty!" the surveyor laughed, giving Corvus a quick wave before striding off to the staircase as well, leaving the young Guild worker with a flat face of irritation. So his conquests weren't  _always_ successful. Big deal. Those ladies were missing out.

Throwing his coat on and slinging his bag over his shoulder, Corvus too made his way to the staircase and out onto the streets, where a steady drizzle greeted him. He had about an hour and a half to burn before going to the Eagle's Perch, so rather than head straight home the surveyor opted to pay a visit to his favorite café. It was a short hike through a couple side streets and alleys, slowed by the number of people going about their business, and particularly impeded at one point by a hunter in bulky bone-and-moss armor with a tremendous horn on one pauldron that accidentally dropped his gunlance on his Palico. Corvus made sure to carefully cover his face with a handkerchief as he stepped around that mess—even if the rain did keep the small cat creature's fur matted down, he didn't trust that his allergies wouldn't act up.

After a fifteen-minute walk through southwestern Ran Fos, the surveyor found himself standing outside the Cup of Jho, a small café tucked snugly beneath an apartment on the corner of two intersecting roads. A large, fairly-new sign hung over the main entrance, depicting a cartoonish Deviljho bathing in a cup of coffee, the establishment's name painted just below that in bold red. The building itself had been refurbished within the last few months, better matching the sign in quality. Previously a failing tavern, the establishment had seen a veritable renaissance due to the updates and refurbishments—something Corvus took no small amount of pride in saying he had a part in.

He was greeted by the familiar scent of ground coffee and herbs in the air as he pushed inside of the café, shaking the water from his coat in the short entryway and stepping into the building proper. It was a fairly quant little place, structured quite similarly to the typical tavern (as it should, the establishment used to be one itself). Yet, the furnishings were decidedly homier: chairs instead of barrels, well-cleaned tables rather than stained wooden ones, a brighter paint job that made rather elegant use of the deep green and vibrant red characteristic of a Deviljho without seeming nearly as aggressive as one… for its unique blend of hunting and non-hunting styles, the Cup of Jho saw a lot of traffic from civilians and hunters alike.

The place was in the process of winding down currently. Most of the tables were empty save for a couple, and the two older women who owned the place were washing dishes behind the counter. Both looked up as the bell over the door rang, their faces lighting up upon seeing him. He smiled as he approached the counter.

"Rena, Joann, how're things going?"

"Another busy day—the best kind of day!" Joann laughed pleasantly, her curly white hair bouncing slightly with every movement of her head. She was a pale woman even shorter than he was, with a kindly smile that never seemed to leave her lips. Her attire was mostly white and brown, and she wore a worn red apron. "We've had our hands busy, yes we have!"

"And by the looks of it you have too, Corvus," Rena added, leaning over the counter and squinting at the bruise on the side of his face. She was slightly taller than Joann, and her skin was more than a few shades darker, and while her expression was decidedly sterner her brown eyes still held an abundance of Rena-brand kindness in them. "Who slugged you? Need me to bust out the heavy duty rolling pin and teach someone a lesson?"

"No no, it's quite alright," he grinned, wincing as the swollen spot ached slightly. "That's a couple days old. Just a new hazard that comes along with the new job."

"Hmm! Oh, Rena! The badge! Look at his badge!"

"I don't see any—oh! Well would you look at that! Did our little artist finally get that promotion? Good for you," she smiled broadly, eyeing the shiny badge pinned to his coat.

"I know just the thing! How about one of the usual, on the house," Joann insisted.

"Oh, please, I couldn't—"

"Not taking no for an answer!"

Corvus stuttered for a moment, then let out a short laugh in defeat. He never really could argue with those two. After dropping his gun off behind the counter he strode over to an empty table and slid into a chair, once more giving the place a quick look over. It had purely been chance that he happened upon the place about a year back—he decided to take a wrong turn while walking back home. Originally the Cup of Jho had been a tavern called the Hungry Jho, but the place had been losing out to some of its competitors since Joann and Rena had been getting along in years and just couldn't keep up with the kind of absurdly large meal requests hunters put in. The two had bemoaned the idea of shutting up shop though. They loved what they did.

Seeing the plight of the two old women pulled at his heartstrings, so Corvus decided to put his other primary talent to use, one he liked to think he inherited from his mother—art. The logo on the front of the café was his own design, as was the interior color scheme. With the logo came the friendlier name, and a shift from rough and tumble tavern to quieter, humbler café, and a change of clientele as well. Soon the once decrepit old building had been filled with new life, and the business took off once again.

This place wasn't the only café he had designed the logo for in Ran Fos either; his work adorned the entrances of at least two dozen shops around the city, from restaurants to tailors to blacksmiths. He was fairly certain at least one caravan had even commissioned a sigil from him, and who knew where that piece was at the moment… and that said nothing of personal requests he sometimes received. Still, he considered his artistic passion something of a secret. While those he did work for obviously knew him by name and face, he asked that they maintain his confidentiality, and preferred to sign his pieces under the fake name 'Alvis Crow'. It kept him from being swarmed with requests, and allowed him to take the jobs he actually wanted to do and earn a little money on the side. The Cup of Jho just happened to be one of his favorite works, and considering the little success story that had occurred here, the place held a particularly special place in his heart.

A couple minutes passed, then Joann brought over a mug filled with steaming coffee, setting it down before him and giving him a pat on the shoulder and a heartfelt 'congratulations' before heading back behind the counter to finish cleaning up. He sat in appreciated solitude for a while, sipping at his coffee and sketching a few random doodles into a small notepad he kept in his pocket, but after a while became aware of a presence peeking over his shoulder. He turned sharply, coming face to face with a man with a mischievous smirk.

"Ack! Too close!" he yelped, pulling forwards in his seat to put a little distance between himself and the man, who simply raised an eyebrow and laughed heartily at his reaction. "Uh, can I… help you?"

"Mmm… No, I was just interested in seeing what you were doing here, doodling in a tiny little sketch pad for so long," his addressor replied with a shockingly melodic tone given an additional ring by a slight accent, standing up straight and smiling curiously.

The best way Corvus could describe him was… peculiar? He was of average height, and quite well-built—perhaps he was a hunter? Rena and Joann enforced a strict 'no armor, no weapons' policy, so Corvus couldn't really tell from the man's attire… which was just a mess to look at really. Patchwork pants, worn out boots—the left of which slid farther down his leg than the right—a poofy tan shirt left open near the top, and a long coat made from faded Slagtoth hides over it all. He had a pair of lazy-yet-keenly discerning golden colored eyes, kept clear of his shaggy, dirty blonde hair by the pale yellowish-orange headband he wore around his forehead. A scruffy beard of the same color stretched along his jaw and over his lips, giving the strange man a decidedly roguish and traveled appearance. Corvus couldn't even happen a guess as to the man's age… late twenties, early thirties? That seemed about right.

"Tell me, you are Corvus Adler, yes?" the man continued, resting his chin in his left hand and propping his arm up with the opposite limb. "Son of Wes and Sabrina, and younger brother to Mila 'the Queen'?"

"Uh… how do you—"

"Ah ah, your reaction has told me  _everything_ I need to know! Now tell me Corvus, my dear newly-minted Guild surveyor… does the name 'Alvis Crow' mean anything to you?"

"Erm—! That's… I mean-"

" _Ahah!_ I  _knew it!_ Truly, truly remarkable! Consider me a great fan of your work, my friend!" the man smiled, taking Corvus' good hand and shaking it rather roughly while his speech rapidly picked up. "Your style is quite unique! I've seen it around Ran Fos, and now in that little doodle book there. I have an eye for this sort of thing, you see. I am a connoisseur of sorts. Well, not exactly the way you might expect, but I am. I simply  _love_ art of all kinds! I specialize in my own unique style I'll have you know. Well, not pencil and paper, no, but I assure you it  _is_ art! Ah, and do not worry: your identity is safe with me. I simply adore-"

"Okay okay okay, back up about ten steps—who are you again?" the surveyor asked with as bewildered an expression as his tone.

"Oh! Forgive me! I forget my manners at times. I, am Mercutio," the bearded man said with a long, embellished bow, nearly touching his head to the table while remaining perfectly balanced on his feet. He remained there for a couple moments, then sniffed the air and turned his head towards Corvus' mug. "Moga Java, with a cream and  _seven_  sugars? You must have quite the sweet tooth, my young friend! I much prefer my coffee like the heart of my sweet, darling, beloved Cynthia… black and bitter."

"…What."

"But I fear my time here was quite limited!" Mercutio laughed, pulling out of his bow and backing up a few paces towards the door. "So glad I could solve another little mystery at the very least. 'Twas a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Corvus Adler! I anticipate we shall cross paths again soon! Ta-ta now!"

Corvus wordlessly watched as the man turned and dramatically flapped the tails of his coat behind him, tugged the hood of his coat over his head, and strode out of the café with a quick two-finger salute to everyone behind him. The young surveyor kept watching after him long after he had gone, more out of confusion than anything else. After a long silence within the café, Rena walked up to his table, still looking towards the door.

"What a strange man… are you done with your coffee?"

He blinked and glanced towards his watch—it was already a quarter past seven! Where had the time gone?! He quickly gulped down the remainder of his drink and thanked the two older women, dropping a few zenni into Rena's hand as a tip, grabbed Jeopardy from Joann, and left the Cup of Jho, jogging through the streets towards his home. The foot traffic never really seemed to change until it was the dead of night, so the going was rather slow, but he arrived at the street where he lived within twenty minutes.

As he turned the corner onto the mostly-empty cobblestone path, though, he heard some shouting coming from one of the side streets up ahead. He hurried ahead to see what the commotion was, sliding to a stop just at the entrance of one of the alleys. Looking down it, Corvus immediately saw a man racing towards him with a large bundle in his arms. He was repeatedly glancing back at a woman who was pursuing him and shouting at him to return what he'd stolen, remaining unaware of the green-coated figure in his path. There was also some strange squealing noise…

Corvus sighed and reached for his satchel, pulling his baton out and snapping it open in one clean motion. He lined up the swing and whistled sharply, causing the man to turn towards him and let out a startled cry the second before the baton met his jaw. The man squealed and lurched back while his momentum kept him moving forwards, throwing the bundle upwards as he sailed past Corvus, flipped over in the air completely, and hit the wet ground front-first with a splash. Corvus collapsed his baton and slid it into his sling as he turned back towards the oddly-slow-falling bundle, hopping forward a pace to catch it in his good arm. He grunted from the effort, but managed not to drop it.

It was then that he realized the squealing he heard was actually the bundle itself. He gasped lightly as the mass shifted about in his arm, and a pink snout jutted out of the cloth wrapping. The rest of the pig's head followed, and two beady black eyes stared up at him shakily.

"Oink?"

"A… a poogie? What in the-"

"Oh, thank you thank you  _thank you_!" the woman cried as she ran up to Corvus, immediately taking the creature into her arms with a grateful laugh. "That detestable vermin nearly made off with my dearest little Hamlet! Are you with the Guild? Yes you are, of course you are, I can see the badge! A little on the short side, but there's such a commanding air about you! Kudos, officer! Now I demand you take him in at once!"

He blinked in surprise at how her tone shifted back and forth from happy and grateful to venomous and spiteful: for a moment he was worried she might actually go and beat the guy up further if he didn't do as she asked. The entire situation already confused him—after that 'encounter' with Mercutio, he really wasn't prepared to deal with this right now.

"I, uh, yeah, I'll get right on that, miss. Just head back to your home and I'll, uh, take care of this guy."

"Excellent! Good on you, officer!" she said, though her expression darkened almost immediately as she looked past Corvus and towards the downed man behind him. "Would I be able to stomp on his knees a little? Maybe his collarbone? At least a finger or ten! Just to make sure he pays for his crimes! He dared to lay his grubby hands on my little precious pink prince!"

"M-ma'am, that would be assault…" The woman gave him a bewildered look, and he rolled his eyes after a moment. "Gonna have to give you a solid 'no' on that."

"Oh, fine… Thank you again! Make him pay!" she said before heading back down the alleyway, her pet poogie held tightly in her arms.

"Man, why are people around here so weird…" Corvus sighed, turning back towards the groveling man behind him. He roughly pulled the man up and out of view of the street, aggressively pushing him up against a wall.

"Agh, ow oww… Easy man, easy! Oof, I think you cracked my jaw… am I bleeding? Feels like I'm bleeding."

"First things first, I could have knocked your head clean off if I were using my better arm, so quit complaining. Next, why were you trying to steal the pig, buddy? I mean seriously, of all the things in this city you could steal, why aim that low? There's petty crime, then there's this."

"Eesh, just pour salt on the wound, why don't you… The wife's been pestering me to get some ham—pregnancy cravings, you look a little too young to understand—but the butcher's asking for  _way_  too much! You want criminal, go check Franz's Mosswine jerky prices! What's a low-class working man supposed to do? City taxes take almost as much from my wallet as my wife's stomach does! I haven't had a cold pint with the boys in forever!"

"And you didn't just… look somewhere else for cheaper prices? You absolutely  _had_ to resort to the pettiest of petty thievery?"

"W-well, no, I guess not, but-but… she was so  _insistent_ on Franz's store! Agh, I just didn't know what to do, okay?!"

"Alright alright, fine, quit crying already… I'm off duty and I have better things to do than drag a sorry idiot back across the city for that. Have some zenni, get your ham  _legally_ , and for crying out loud, stop trying to make pork chops out of people's pets!"

"I-I, ah… Thank you!" the man replied as Corvus dropped a few coins into his palm and sent him packing. During his time working as an officer he'd come to learn that these kinds of 'criminals' were all over the city. They were hardly the worst of the bunch, though: so long as they didn't get away with whatever they were doing, Corvus was content to just send them off with a warning, even give them a little help out of his own pocket if their reasoning was genuine enough and his wallet was fat enough. He knew that there were bigger fish to fry anyways.

With a short sigh the young surveyor turned and made his way back towards his home, pulling his keys out and pushing into the darkened front hall. The place wasn't too fancy, but it wasn't really poorly furnished either. As far as he'd seen it was actually a pretty nice place to live by Ran Fos' standards. Two stories, a kitchen, living room, three bedrooms, neighbors that didn't fight or make a ruckus… it certainly didn't compare to his old home in Westvale for a multitude of reasons, but there wasn't much use complaining about it anymore.

He hung his coat up on the rack by the front door and slid his boots off, hurrying upstairs to his room to drop his bag off and change into something a little more casual (really just blue pants and foregoing a vest), made sure Jeopardy's holster was securely strapped to the back of his belt, then hurried back downstairs. Arms through the sleeves of his coat and feet snug into the boots once more, the surveyor was out the door in less than ten minutes, jogging towards the Eagle's Perch.

Fortunately it wasn't too far a run. His father was fortunate enough to find a tavern looking for new management close to the home they were moving into, so getting there and back was no sweat even without a carriage. He arrived outside the establishment after another ten minutes, taking a few moments to catch his breath. The place was by all intents and purposes your average tavern, from the outside at least; the sign above the door he had made depicting four namesake birds was the only really different thing about the facade. His eyes lingered on the second largest one for a few somber moments before he shook his head clear.

Corvus was aware of a sort of 'pressure' in the air around him as he did so, like a buzz in his ears and a pull in his mind, though it wasn't something he was unfamiliar with. It wasn't too much, only enough to really make someone turn their head and look around if they weren't aware of the cause, but to those who knew her, this sensation was a telltale sign of Mila's 'Radiance', as she called it. It was one of the few powers of hers tied to her Aura Hunting Sense—this one was basically a magical field that said 'hey, look at me!' It was fitting for someone like her.

He just began to reach for the handle, noting that while all the lights were on inside the tavern was deceptively quiet, when the door suddenly flung open inwards, and an arm shot out from within, wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him inside the tavern with a surprised yelp.

"Ahah! Third time's the charm! Told ya he'd be here!" Mila laughed loudly, dragging him along further into the tavern. He glanced up at her for a moment, seeing that she was wearing her 'performer' attire. Her outfit consisted of a matching navy blue outfit consisting of a short-cut sleeveless shirt, detached sleeves held up by gold bands, a long skirt split down the left leg, dark shorts, thigh-high black socks, and tall tan boots, all accented with embroidered gold lining.

He then turned his head forwards to see who exactly she was addressing. To his actual surprise, the tavern had been decorated with Guild flags, green table clothes, and a long banner reading 'Congrats, Corvus!' over the bar. Had they actually taken the time to redecorate the interior just for this?

As for 'them', a large crowd of people were gathered inside already, seated at tables or standing around, though they had remained mostly silent up until Mila tugged the young surveyor into the middle of the room, at which point they erupted into cheers and applause. He stuttered awkwardly for a few moments, glancing around at those around him uncertain how to react yet. His mind barely even wrapped around what was happening, and he had known a party was coming. There were as many familiar faces as unfamiliar, it seemed. Mila gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, earning a quick look from him just before she whirled up onto a table, hoisting up a tankard into the air and silencing the tavern.

"Friends, acquaintances, random bargoers who just happened to stop on by!" she called, turning her gaze across the whole tavern with a bright expression. "I am Mila, the Untouchable Huntress! I'm sure you've all  _probably_ heard about me, and if you haven't, get out from under that Basarios and read an issue of Hunter's Life. But, as much as I'd love to spend more time talking about myself, tonight is NOT about me! No, my friends, tonight, we celebrate my amazing little brother Corvus' promotion from average run-of-the-mill Guild officer… to bona fide Ran Fos surveyor! Can I get a round of cheers for him?!"

She swept her tankard to the side, spilling a small splash of cider in the process, but grinned broadly as those seated raised their tankards and an excited drone of cheers and congratulations filled the air of the Eagle's Perch. They quickly hushed themselves as she raised her tankard once more.

"To my fellow hunters, now that he's actually here, how about we give my fashionably late li'l bro a cheer to remember?!" she continued, and several individuals seated around the tavern stood proud and tall, broad grins and excited smirks crossing every face. "Count of three, lemme hear you howl like a Zinogre!  _One, two, three!"_

" _AWOOOOOO!"_

The howls of the hunters filled the space with deafening excitement, practically rattling his skull from the intensity of it all but earning a short laugh from Corvus all the same. The cheer died down after a few seconds, and the tavern volume returned to only slightly unbearable to the untrained ear—so about average for a tavern. Mila took a long swig of cider, then hopped down from the table she had been standing on, shooting him a broad smile and patting him on the head twice before ruffling his hair.

"I am  _SO_ proud of you. Seriously, way to go, li'l bro! That time in the Guild academy is really paying off!"

"Sis, I don't even know what to say," Corvus laughed with a sheepish grin, lightly batting her hand off his head. "I thought I'd have to  _act_ surprised, but… you really outdid yourself here!"

"Of course I did, what else could you expect? I'm me!" she giggled, shaking her head. "Nah, I'm joking! I'd never have been able to get everything ready if the others hadn't pitched in too. Dad and I have been planning this ever since Falia's dad told us he was giving you the promotion for figuring out that Ludroth breeding ring shindig, so be sure to have a good time, you hear?"

"I… yeah, but... Dad helped with this?"

"Helped? Nah, it was  _his_ idea in the first place! He's working the kitchen right now, but be sure to thank him when you see him! …I mean it."

She gave him a short look, and he let out a brief sigh before nodding reluctantly. He didn't want to make a scene tonight, his own frustrations notwithstanding. Mila's smile returned once again, and the huntress excitedly led him to a table where several other hunters were seated, as was Falia. The entire group greeted them cheerfully as they slid onto the two empty barrels.

"There's our little Guildie!" the great sword user Bartolomeo grinned. "That badge looks pretty good on ya!

He was a massive, burly fellow of twenty-five years with deeply tanned skin, long shoulder-length brown hair he kept swept back, framing his angular face with spiky tufts of hair matched by the chinstrap beard running along his jaw and up the sides of his cheeks. He had a hooked scar on his left cheek, and two parallel scratches on the right, while his nose was slightly bent from having been broken a couple times—such was the dangers of his profession. Regardless, he wore a goofy smile almost perpetually. Everyone knew that despite his massive size and intimidating demeanor (seriously, his arms seemed about ready to rip out of their sleeves) he was about as cuddly as a stuffed plushie Arzuros. He, like most others there, was garbed quite simply in a coat, a brown shirt, and khaki pants.

Seated next to him was Demitri's brother Klavier, a wielder of the uncommonly-seen hunting horn. Like his brother he had bright orange hair and green eyes, though his hair was markedly longer, being pulled back into a short ponytail while a few rebellious strands hung over his rather wide forehead. He had a fairly relaxed, cool expression, matching his personality, and his lanky build suggested an indifferent or passive role in battle, though Mila always said he was something else entirely out in the field. He had a slightly rounded jaw and a sharp nose crossed by a scar that ran perpendicular to the one stretching over and under his left eye. Unlike most of the others seated around the table, he was wearing a flashy outfit of red and silver, with white sleeves as puffy as clouds.

"Moving on up in the world, eh?" he smiled, raising an eyebrow and a tankard towards the surveyor. "You and your sister both. Keep it up."

"Speaking of, what was that 'grand Tigrex battle' you mentioned earlier, Mila?" gunlance user Desmond asked, gesturing towards the huntress with his cup.

Standing about level with his friends, if anything made Desmond stand out, it was that he was BROAD. Rumor had it that were the airship docks to shut down for any reason, the pilots may attempt to park on his shoulders. Clearly an exaggeration, but he was built like a brick wall at the very least, a fact that matched his choice in armaments and his typical serious demeanor. He had deep hazel eyes and closely trimmed black hair, split by a long pink scar on the top right of his head that stood out starkly from his dark skin.

"Don't worry, Dez! I'll tell you all about it after Klav and I tear it up on the stage!" the huntress smirked, glancing towards the hunting horn user and nodding. He smiled back, and the two pushed themselves up, striding over towards the slightly raised platform on the other end of the tavern to begin preparing their show.

"Man, I wish I could play an instrument…" Corvus glanced over, seeing the young hunter Elliot's head drop slightly. "Then I could be up on that stage too…"

He was the youngest of the group there, only having earned his hunting license the year prior. As such, he was still working through low rank, making him the most unimpressive one there. He had very boyish features and uncertain blue eyes, partially obscured by a mess of tan-ginger hair. Elliot wasn't very small, and was in fact quite lean, but for a hunter he definitely lacked presence, a fact his meekness didn't really help. According to the others he could barely fight if he didn't have the mask of his Hunter's armor pulled down, since eye contact was perhaps the greatest of his many weaknesses.

The surveyor silently rolled his eyes at the young hunter's statement. It was a well-known fact that Elliot probably had the biggest crush on Mila out of anyone in the city (which really was saying something). Even Mila herself knew, a fact she exploited for a good laugh every now and then. That hadn't kept her from taking the younger hunter under her wing to try and teach him to be a little more confident though. It was mostly that low self-esteem that kept him from just asking for a date. Mila certainly hadn't suggested any sort of disinterest in the idea… but then again she never really seemed 'disinterested' in anyone, so the poor kid probably thought he had all the competition in the world.

While Corvus' own reaction was mostly tame, the others at the table laughed or chuckled at Elliot's words. Not in a demeaning way, more sympathetic to the young hunter's plight. Bart clapped a hand on Elliot's shoulder and gave him a broad grin.

"Just takes practice, kiddo! What was that thing you said your pops always told you?"

"I-if there's something you want, take it…? Or… something like that…"

"Yep! You wanna be a hunter worthy of the Star of Ran Fos, you gotta shoot  _for_ the stars first! Work hard at what you do, and you'll get there before ya know it! I believe in ya!"

"For some reason I'm not so sure about that… but thanks, Bart."

"Ever the voice of assurance, aren't you?" the surveyor mused, earning a wide smile from the hunter. That was Bartolomeo in a nutshell. A fairly simple, happy go lucky hunter that wanted the best for everyone. A day didn't go by when he didn't offer some words of support to someone—Corvus didn't think it possible for him not to. Considering the great sword user's supposedly rough upbringing in the cold northern reaches of the country that he barely ever delved into, it probably stemmed from somewhere in his past. It seemed his goal in life was to be everyone's best friend.

"Say, Corvus…" He turned his head back towards Elliot, and the young hunter fidgeted in place a moment. "You're her brother, so you have to know her pretty great… Do you know how I could—?"

"Save your breath," Corvus sighed bluntly, making Elliot clamp his jaw shut. "Mila might as well be a force of nature. She wants what she wants, she wants who she wants. You can't make her feel or do anything she doesn't want to feel or do. That's how she is, so you're better off just accepting that and praying that one day you happen to be the lucky one like everyone else does."

"O-oh…"

"Ouch, Corvus. I mean, you're absolutely right, but still," Falia shrugged while shooting him a sideways glance after watching Elliot's expression fall again. "No need to completely destroy the kid's hopes and dreams."

"I'm not destroying them, I'm just telling it how it is. Us Adlers are always a little above and beyond, and Mila's no exception to that." The others snickered at that comment, making Corvus raise an eyebrow inquisitively. "What?"

"Just you and that family pride," Desmond said. "Your head looks a touch bigger every time I see you… and it's not just because you're getting smarter, shorty."

"Don't make me want to dig up your quest history, Dez. I'm sure there's more to all those exciteshroom delivery requests than you're letting on."

The others laughed at the banter between gunlancer and surveyor, though a tap on his shoulder caused Corvus to turn his head back. Gerome, one of the waiters who worked under his father, carrying two trays; one full of ale and water, the other balanced atop the first, stacked high with food. He smiled pleasantly and set the food down on the table much to the enjoyment of those seated (especially Falia) and held a tankard full of clear water out for him to take—fortunately the staff at the Eagle's Perch knew better than to give Corvus alcohol. Begrudgingly he had to admit that he could not hold his liquor without passing out, a fact the others teased him about relentlessly. Apparently it ran in the family, though Mila didn't seem to suffer from it… Still, the surveyor graciously took the tankard, glancing past the waiter as he saw Mila and Klavier had stepped up onto the stage.

The horn wielder's fingers were wrapped around a long, gleaming silver flute, while Mila held her lacquered wooden violin and bow. The entire tavern seemed to take notice that the two were on stage as well, and the voices quieted down to a murmur as they nodded to one another.

Klavier led first, stepping forwards and blowing a long, slow series of high and floaty notes and drawing the last one out for a few extra seconds. As the windy melody died down and Klavier stepped back a pace, Mila slid forwards and let her violin pick up the lead, matching Klavier's previous melody in a lower, smoother string tone that ran like water over glass. Her sequence ended as swiftly as her partner's had, and Klavier once more took the lead, only this time playing slightly faster and harder. The flute emitted an uplifting and airy sound, like a wyvern soaring through the skies. It fell away quickly though, and the quicker, graceful draw of bow across strings replaced that image with a hunter racing across plains, or through forests, in pursuit of their quarry. Her last note ended high and drawn out, and she winked towards Klavier, who smirked lightly before once more raising his flute to his lips.

What followed that intro was true harmonic union of instruments. Klavier's notes came out fast and hard, high and low, rising and falling in a steady-yet-furious beat matched only by the swift melody Mila's strings. Like before, one instrument always become more audible than the other, but only for a few brief moments at a time. Yet, the transition between notes and sounds was flawless. It never seemed forced, was never broken. Though the sounds implied a sort of duel between the musicians, like that of man and nature, yet heeding the beauty of both with lower, somber moments broken by those of triumph and meaning. The performance had completely mesmerized the entire tavern up until that first song ended with a long note from both flute and violin.

Applause erupted moments later, and the two hunters bowed with wide smiles on their faces. Corvus laughed and clapped alongside the rest—it was perhaps only then that he realized that the song they had played was  _To One With Life,_ an old classic written to honor all creatures, man and beast. Yet, their unique twist had seemed to transform the song into something else entirely. As those applause died down, the two began to play another song, this one starting of with the triumphant intro of  _Setting Off Wind._ Any conversations that took place during the performance were brief and quiet—the music was just too captivating to not demand anything less than complete attention. Mila and Klavier played several other songs as well, including  _Tremble of Land and Sea_ and  _Deep Forest Illusion,_ all before finishing their performance with the world-famous  _Proof of a Hero,_ a finale that every hunter in the tavern joined in on with a roar of vocals matched to the notes. Even still, the two instruments held sway over the performance, discernible up until the last note, fading into cheers of approval. Their performance now reaching its conclusion, the two bowed once more, long and low, before stepping off stage, in spite of shouts desperate for an encore.

Corvus just grinned and shook his head. As much as that performance was meant to captivate the entire audience, the knowledge that Mila had practiced with Klavier specifically for his promotion was too genuine an act for him not to appreciate it. She gave him a cheerful smirk and a wave before heading behind the bar and to the back room with Klavier to store their instruments.

"Ah, such a beautiful performance… were it only that I could listen forever!"

Corvus and the others at the table turned at the smooth voice that sounded from the side as the noise of the tavern started to become clear to him once more. Standing there in a rain-soaked Yukumo-style kimono of white and pink was Makiyuma.

Unlike the other hunters seated around this table, Makiyuma was a Hybrid—beings who had once been monsters before a visit to one of the various towers that dotted the land caused them to shift into human-like forms with impressive physical prowess and powerful elemental magic at their disposal, while usually retaining some 'monstrous' traits that tended to put ordinary people off. Specifically, he was a Mizutsune, peculiar Leviathans that lived in the far western reaches of the Venatorian territory of Maglea. Being a Leviathan Hybrid, Maki possessed some very standout traits, namely the scales lining his arms and cheeks with a unique blend of white, pink, and yellow. Befitting a Hybrid, he was quite tall, even standing over Bart by a few inches, matching his deceptively strong lithe and slender body. He had long, burgundy colored hair that hung low on the sides and was pulled up into an explosive ponytail of dull red, while his eyes were a light grey hue, broken by black diamond-shaped pupils, a characteristic shared by all Hybrids. He had a lofty-yet-lazy expression, his lips ever curled into a slightly aggravating fox-like smirk.

"I was wondering where you were at," Corvus chuckled. "Normally you follow my sister around like a pet."

"Ho hum. Observe me however you wish. I do not particularly care what you think, vertically-challenged one. But if you must know, I was enjoying a pleasant nap in the rain before the sweet melody of Lady Mila's violin reached my ears. Ah… Simply, utterly beautiful."

Desmond shot the Hybrid a disdainful frown, and the others sighed or rolled their eyes. Maki was obsessed with the concept of beauty, to say the least. He went on and on about whatever he viewed as beautiful, practically worshiping the notion of beauty, only showing any kind of respect towards things he thought were beautiful, that sort of thing. He had an annoying tendency to look down his nose at people and make rather harsh critiques out of nowhere… though he did have an annoying habit of making good points with what he said, and he COULD be nice at times. His tone just rubbed all the wrong places in the process. The only person he was ever genuinely nice to on a consistent basis was Mila. Corvus, meanwhile, was more or less used to it.

"Speaking of beautiful things, I smell some truly delightful food in the air," the Hybrid continued, glancing over each face at the table. "Where might it be?"

"Huh? The waiter plopped a tray down just a—" Bart's voice sputtered to a halt as his eyes landed on the thoroughly-cleaned platter, occupied only by crumbs and scraps. The others just stared at the plate with flabbergasted looks… up until Falia let out a light hiccup and quickly covered her mouth, eyes slightly wide. Her cheeks reddened as every set of eyes at the table turned her way.

"I-I mean… no one else was having any during the show, so…  _Urp._  Uh, sorry?"

"…Her appetite scares me," Elliot shivered, shooting a meek glance towards Falia before turning away from her irritated glare. "I-in a good way!"

The celebration continued on for another couple hours. People came and went, wishing the new surveyor the best if they actually knew him, and Corvus was left feeling quite pleased when things had at last begun to wind down more. The hunters departed, noting hunts they were on the lookout for or other errands in the morning as reasons, while others had just had a little too much to drink and needed a hand back to their living spaces. The last few to leave were Bartolomeo, Desmond, and Elliot (the latter two had to carry the long-drunk great sword user back), as well as Viper, Falia, and Falia's mother Kathy. That left Corvus, Mila, the remaining staff… and the tavern's owner, who stepped out from the kitchen and let out a long, tired sigh while wiping the sweat from his brow.

There were few in Maglea who were at least unfamiliar with their father's name. He was regarded as a hero, particularly in the formerly-Venatorian half of the country that was most affected by the plot Balestra had sprung a quarter-century prior. For his role in stopping Balestra, the dark dragon Dire Miralis, and preventing catastrophe, the name Wes Adler was known across the country alongside the other heroes of Tanzia.

In spite of that 'great hero of Tanzia' thing, though, Wes really didn't seem that heroic now, covered in sweat and kitchen grease while wearing a faded apron that once read 'Please Do Not Punch The Cook's Face' over his dark grey attire. He had a head of shaggy silvery-grey hair with long strands hanging over to the left of his nose and a rebellious flick curling up on the right side of his head. His eyes were a similar burnt-out grey, though the slightest hints of blue coloration could be seen in the right, and green in the left. At forty-five years of age, he barely looked a day over thirty for as long as Corvus was alive. Most said Wes' good looks turned heads all his life, though in recent years he'd allowed a slight stubble to grow in on his face. He stood at exactly six feet, and he was built like a former hunter—toned enough, but his early retirement about a decade prior left him on the thinner side.

"Hunters never get any easier to cook for," he huffed, settling into a stool at the bar and downing a tankard of water in seconds. "And not just one, but  _three_ Dentes! Lucky there are still crumbs back there…"

He glanced over at the table Mila and Corvus were seated at, his expression immediately lifting. Wes pushed up from the stool and instead settled in at the table with them, though Corvus refused to meet his eyes. Mila, on the other hand, scooted her chair closer to their father and laughed happily, wrapping an arm around his shoulders with a warm hug.

"The food was as great as ever, Daddy-o! Everyone loved it!"

"If they only enjoyed it half as much as they enjoyed listening to you and Klavier, then that's good enough for me," he grinned, giving her a quick peck on the top of her head. "You were sounding better than ever, Little Bird."

"I'm just glad  _you_ both liked it!" she grinned, cheeks red from praise. "Adoration from the nameless masses is great and all, but if there's anyone I want to make happy it's the best dad and the best little brother ever!"

"The adoration of the nameless masses just kinda happens along the way, right?" Corvus said with a snarky smirk. His sister responded by sticking her tongue out at him playfully, causing him to roll his eyes. "Very mature."

"Speaking of maturity, Corvus, I am beyond proud of you," his father smiled. "I always knew you had a good head on your shoulders, but when Viper told me he was promoting you to the investigative field I was almost speechless! It's a really big deal! I'll bet it's going to be tough, but you'll be able to do a lot of good with this work. That's really something to be proud of. Great job, son."

Corvus briefly glanced towards his father, his expression mixed. His response was almost 'If only Mom were here to say that', but Mila's eyes caught his before his lips opened, reminding him of his agreement not to be difficult tonight. After a short sigh, he settled on a simple:

"Thanks, Dad."

"Oh!" Mila exclaimed, sitting upright and glancing excitedly towards their father. "The gifts! Now's the perfect time for 'em!"

"I can get th—"

"Be right back!"

Mila was out of her chair and in the back room before Wes had even finished speaking, moving so fast that the accompanying rush of wind nearly blew out every candle on each table nearby while lifting table cloths and banners all around. The hired hands were left gaping at the sight, though a quick look from Wes caused them to shake out of their surprise and get back to cleaning the place up.

"Could just be me, but I think she's getting faster," he mused, looking towards the still-swinging door Mila had pushed through a moment before. "Shame she got banned from the biannual marathon. I'd have liked to keep measuring how much she improves year by year."

"The marathon was a terrible way to judge that," Corvus scoffed, glancing back over his shoulder at the windows, and the darkened streets outside. "She just kept timing it so she'd break her old record by one second each time, and the judges got sick of the winner being decided before the race even began. The ban was just to make it fair for the other competitors."

"Heh, I suppose that's true. So, how has the new job been? Haven't quite been able to catch you on the way out in the morning… wait, is that a bruise?"

"Job's been going fine. Just had a bit of a scrap with a hunter at another tavern a couple days back, wasn't a big deal."

"Couple days… So, a bar fight on day one? Not exactly the kind of thing I'd like to call a family tradition, but all things considered it's looking an awful lot like one. Can you remember the aftermath of that brawl after Mila's exam as well as I can?"

"Of course. The only thing worse than a dozen bruised and bloodied hunters was—"

"—the bill," they both said simultaneously, earning a short chuckle from both. Corvus caught himself though, clearing his throat and falling silent, still refusing to meet Wes' gaze. Mila sure was taking her sweet time… must have been another ploy of hers to get the two of them talking regularly again. As much as he respected her, that was just something he couldn't—wouldn't do.

A few seconds of strained silence followed, then at last the blonde huntress stepped out from the back room carrying a long, rectangular wooden box, and a smaller square box on top of that. She strode over to the table with an excited smile, setting the short stack down before him and taking a step back.

"Big one's from Dad, small one's from me," she said, and Corvus tried not to move too fast for her gift to him. He looked over the box curiously—it was about the size of his hand, though only half as tall as it was broad. It was covered in a fine black leather layering though, and the letters 'DMC' were pressed into the middle by a stamp, under which was the name of the business in tiny lettering: 'Dante's Many Coats'.

"You got that whackjob Dante to make me something?" Corvus asked, shaking the box lightly next to his ear. Whatever padding was inside muffled the sound, but it sounded sort of like sifting metal. "I thought he only made coats and needlessly flashy clothing."

"Maybe it  _is_ a coat!" she teased, gesturing for him to open the box already. He huffed in amusement before doing so, popping the lid off and gazing at the contents. Within was a brightly polished silver necklace with a blood red gemstone embedded into the middle. Deep rune-like engravings were carved around the gemstone, painted a gradual range of red to green the further they got from the gem in the middle. The circular charm was held up by a length of silver chain through a loop at the top. He pulled the necklace out by the chain, holding it up for the others to see.

"Not a coat," he said with a simpered curl of his lips. "It is really nice looking though, Sis. Definitely my style… Hope it didn't cost too much."

"Pfft, don't you go worrying about that! And it's not just for looks either! That right there is a recovery charm!"

"Ah… a what?"

"A recovery charm," she repeated with a snicker, pulling up her right sleeve and showing off a small, light blue bracelet she wore. "It's kinda like my razor sharp charm. It's supposed to emit a special energy to speed up your body's recovery speed, fixing wounds faster and helping you get over sickness easier! I figure it'll help keep your arm out of that sling more... and it should fix that big ol' welt on the side of your face too."

"Ohh, so basically it's one of those hokey magic spirit rock things that you love so much? Gods, it really  _must_  have cost you a fortune in that case."

"Hey, I'll have you know these things are proven to work! There's actual science behind it!"

" _What_  science?"

"The science of 'put the necklace on before I kick your butt, shrimp'."

"Go ahead, kick my butt. I'll get better quick as can be, all thanks to my magical new  _recovery charm_!" he snickered, holding the gleaming bauble out before himself. A moment later Mila burst out into laughter as well, taking the necklace from his hand and walking around behind him to properly clasp the chain around his neck—a difficult task for one arm. Admittedly he really didn't put much stock into that 'spiritual energy of rocks' thing his sister seemed so enamored with, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the gift for what it was.

"So, Dante's a jeweler now too?"

"Nah, he still prefers making coats, but he's so stingy about who he makes them for that it's hurting business," Mila replied, patting him on the shoulders after fastening the clasp and stepping back around the table. "I put in another order for an outfit a while ago, and he mentioned that he could make charms if I brought the materials, so I decided to help him out a little with paying rent in exchange for a custom one made special for you! Thankfully he's a fast worker. I only got back from Val Habar this morning with the rest of what I needed for the charm, so I was worried he might not finish it in time."

"So that's why you left on that surprise trip…" He lifted the charm from his chest to inspect it more closely. In spite of his skepticism about how 'useful' it was, it was a gift from his sister that Mila had made for him personally. That wasn't a small act. "Coulda just waited to throw the party, y'know."

"I  _could_ have, but you know me—I'm no good with waiting around!"

He gave her a grateful smile, letting the charm thump against his chest before at last turning his attention to the longer wooden box held closed by a pair of metal latches. With a short shrug he pulled it closer to himself, flipping the clasps up and pushing the lid open, then lifting a layer of cloth over the gift itself.

Within was a two and a half foot-long single-edged straight saber with a gleaming silver blade and a black wooden single-hand grip wrapped in gold wire. A black metal handguard stretched over the front of the grip to protect the fingers. Closer inspection of the blade showed a series of rippling lines running the length of the blade, like the surface of water. Stored along side the blade was a black leather sheath with a golden throat and chape. Corvus whistled at the quality of the blade—swords were more Mila's thing, but this sure looked like a fine sword to him. Lifting it from the case, he determined that the weapon was well balanced too, much better than the beat-up old practice swords he was used to using. It was also notably lighter than the blades Mila herself wielded, though hers were hunting grade.

"Wow, Dad! That is a  _nice_ sword!" Mila said with a dazzled tone, leaning over the table to inspect the blade for herself. "Wait, I think I recognize the make…"

"That's because Tiamat forged it," Wes explained. Tiamat was the smith of Westvale, the town Mila and Corvus had lived in for most of their early lives—he easily remembered her. Wes still owned a large flamberge that she had made for him.

"She lives on the other side of the country," Corvus pointed out, glancing towards his father with a raised eyebrow. "There's no way you got word to her about this and got a special-order sword made that quickly."

"Right you are. She made this alongside the one she made for me before we moved, after you declared that you were going to attend the academy here in Ran Fos. She figured that since all the really great officers use their own weapons, you might want something a little nicer than the standard issue rapiers officers get."

"Then why didn't you give it to me when I graduated? The one I was issued snapped like a toothpick during that Seltas incident at the arena pens a couple years back."

"She said it was too nice for an 'average officer'."

"That… sounds like her, yeah. Don't quite think I was ever really 'average' though. I mean, come on; I'm an Adler. Anything  _but_ ordinary."

"A family name doesn't really make you great right from the get-go, son. In any case, I was just waiting for a moment that felt right. I hope it can make up for lost time."

Corvus nodded after a moment, then lifted the scabbard from the box and fitted the blade inside. A hooked stud was welded onto the throat, allowing it to hang from his belt without need to remove it completely to fasten it through a loop, a fact he greatly appreciated after figuring out. He glanced up from his belt towards his sister after a few seconds, noticing she was hovering quite closely with a peculiar gleam in her silvery diamond-blue eyes.

"Can I?" she asked excitedly. "Can I can I canIcanI _canI_?!"

"Eesh, calm down a touch! It's just a sword!"

"That's why I'm so pumped! This is your first  _real_ sword! That cruddy mass-produced Guild hot dog cooker you had was barely worth a mention, but  _this!_ This blade has a soul in it, li'l bro! You have GOT to let me name it!"

"She's got a knack for it," their father added when Corvus briefly glanced towards him. He shrugged and pulled the blade from the sheath, holding it out towards his sister, yelping in surprise at how quickly she snatched it from his hand. She lifted the sword before herself, pressing her fingers to the flat of the blade as she closed her eyes and concentrated. For a few moments she posed like that (Mila was absolutely the kind of person who would strike a pose whenever she could) before her eyes snapped open, and she swiped the blade down and up, twirled quickly whilst switching it to a reverse grip, then held the weapon out to her brother guard-first.

"Sable," she smirked decidedly, gently running her fingers along the flat of the polished metal blade. "It'll take good care of you, Corvus. So, you take care of it too."

"Er… right." He rolled his eyes before taking the newly-christened Sable from his sister's hands and sliding it back into its sheath. As he did so, Wes thumped his hands on the table and pushed himself upright.

"Welp, fun as it's been, I think we should get heading back home. It has been a  _long_ day. Gerome, think you can lock up for me tonight?"

"Aye, sir."

With that, Wes and Corvus retrieved their coats and Mila nabbed her violin case and umbrella from the back room, and the three made their way through the dark streets back towards their abode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Hey, I figured out how to push the Chapter Notes button! Look at me learning how to use this site like a boss. I also realize that I kinda forgot to post some chapters here, so this chapter and chapter 4 will come both be up tonight, and chapter 5 will be out next week. 
> 
> One of the big themes I'm tackling with this story is family, as you can probably tell by now. For this reason I'm focusing on keeping the story mostly centralized on Corvus and Mila. That doesn't mean I'm going to do without a colorful cast of side characters too though! We'll be seeing a few more later on. My personal favorite is Mercutio, though his prominence in this story doesn't really classify him as a 'side character'. In any case, have fun figuring him out! As for the rest of the characters, who sticks out to you the most, faithful readers?
> 
> Master Corps readers will definitely recognize Wes, the old main protagonist of that story. While he hasn't changed too much physically due to the circumstances at the end of that story, he's gone through a lot of personality and character changes between then and now for a variety of reasons… some of which you can probably guess at by this point. One thing I think I failed with doing in TMC was making the characters from The Hunter's Oath, my first story which TMC was a direct sequel to, really fit into the story. Like they were there, yes, but you didn't really feel an attachment or care about them that much (aside from York I suppose) unless you read THO. So, what I'm doing now is giving the returning characters more screentime, and I'm reducing the number of them to a grand total of two. Congrats, you've already met them both!
> 
> I'm not sure if you all noticed, but all of the songs Mila and Klavier played are actually Monster Hunter themes! I decided not to use any "real-world" songs since I don't feel like coming up for some BS reason why they exist in the world of Maglea. Trying to look up violin and flute covers for those songs to make sure they could sound right was a pretty fun afternoon.
> 
> And that should be about everything. Be sure to leave a review, or PM me if you have any remarks! Even just a 'good job' would really make my day! Or, if you hated the chapter, by all means, let me know! Literally everything helps me grow as a writer, and I always appreciate hearing from readers.
> 
> Ah, and before I forget: character voices! I'll include the roles the VAs played to give you a better idea for what I'm going for.
> 
> Wes: David Vincent (male Robin/Michalis in Fire Emblem)
> 
> Mercutio: Mick Wingert (Inigo/Lazlow)
> 
> Elliot: Michael Sinterniklass (Takumi)
> 
> Bartolomeo: Edward Bosco (Luke)
> 
> Desmond: Orion Acaba (Gerome)
> 
> Klavier: Cam Clarke (Corrin, but more importantly LIQUIIIID Snake in Metal Gear Solid)
> 
> Makiyuma: Ben Diskin (Jakob, Matthew)


	4. Earthshaker

Corvus awoke to the ringing of his alarm clock early the following morning, feeling shockingly refreshed in spite of staying up late the night before. While it still took him some time to rub the sleep from his eyes and fight the urge to fall back into the warm comfort of the blankets, he knew he shouldn't really waste much time before work. He pushed himself off the bed, cursing silently when he nearly slipped on a large sheet of paper on the floor—one of many, as it were.

Admittedly his room was a bit of a huge mess. The nightstand to his left was stacked high with sketchbooks and loose papers, while his desk on the other end of the room was similarly occupied by notes and reference pictures, along with several anatomy books. That didn't even account for the pencils and various coloring utensils scattered here, there, and everywhere. He had a few portraits and drawings tacked onto the walls as well, adding a little extra flair to the otherwise ornery room. He took particular pride in the small framed picture of his late grandfather that hung beside his door—a gift from his grandmother in Moga many years ago. Just above that one was another framed picture, a self-portrait of his mother Sabrina.

He grabbed a fresh change of clothes from the dresser in his closet and pushed out into the hallway, flexing his left arm and hand as they tingled with a very slight pins-and-needles sensation. To his immediate left was the door to Mila's room, while further down to the right was their father's room and, just before that, the bathroom. The huntress' door was slightly ajar though, and Corvus peeked inside briefly, seeing his sister sitting cross-legged before her weapon rack and armor stand, wearing a black midriff-bearing sleeveless top and a pair of lavender pants, with one of her many swords in one hand and a polishing rag in the other.

Mila's room was markedly bigger than his and their father's, though for good reason. She needed the space for her hunting equipment. Unlike the completely carpeted floor of his room, only half of Mila's room was carpeted—the 'living' half, as she called it. There her bed and other furniture was crammed, particularly a bookcase chock full of hunting books, magazines, cheesy romance novels, and all sorts of other random things. Her bed was a constant mess of pillows, small monster plushies, and blankets, and on the nightstand beside the mattress a framed photo of their family taken while they lived in Westvale stood. The other half was the 'hunting' half, where she not only kept all of her armor, weapons, and item chest, but also practiced the basics of her form on occasions when the rain was too harsh for the wide alley out back. The floor on that side was hardwood, which along with the walls and ceiling was occasionally split with cuts and thin gashes from when a strike went too high or long. Corvus could swear he spied a new one every time he looked inside.

"Good morning, li'l bro," she said without even glancing back, lifting the purple crystalline blade she wielded as a pair with its thinner, pinkish relative to appraise its gleam and admire her reflection on its surface. He blinked in surprise before shaking his head. Of course she knew he was there. That was her main Aura power Awareness, the ability to somehow feel and perceive everything animate or not within its thirty-yard field of effect. Mila never missed anything going on around her—she physically  _couldn't._

"Sis," he greeted, poking his head into the room a little further. "Planning another hunt?"

"Mmmm… maybe. I'm hoping to get Lavender and Lily refined soon, but then Verdanta could use a little loving too… oh, and I can't forget about Bifrost! Poor guy's been on the sidelines for months! Then again Homura  _is_ next on the list... I figure I'll just meet up with Falia and see if she's got any juicy lookin' quests I can take that some smith or another hasn't placed a claim on yet. Then I can decide what my next plan is."

She stood and returned the purple blade Lavender to its spot on her wall-occupying weapon rack, perhaps the most impressive sight in the room. The blade's thinner twin Lily was mounted on the rack beside her three forearm-length short blades Bud, Blossom, and Bloom. A couple slots over was her long sword, Manami, a foreign-style weapon with a curved teal and silver blade and a spine with wave-like ripples, held in a large dark blue sheath. She'd won it as a prize during some mystery monster contest the year she was elevated to high rank status, and she'd been having it upgraded gradually ever since. Further to the right on the rack was a blue single-edged blade, very similar in appearance to the standard iron sword many hunters began their careers with save for its color and quality. Corvus knew that blade and its matching shield all too well—it had once belonged to their mother. Out of respect for her, Mila simply called it 'Sapphire', and it remained one of her most-used weapons, perhaps even the one best cared for.

That's not to say any were neglected, though. Every edge gleamed as though freshly polished, which was quite impressive considering there were quite a few other blades on the rack as well. Mila owned almost twenty different swords in total, and those were just the hunting weapons—counting practice and civilian-grade blades, she had well over thirty swords on the rack alone. To the left of the rack in the corner of the room was an armor mannequin, upon which her Battle armor hung, gleaming with a freshly polished glow. He couldn't help but feel the name of her attire sounded uninspired, but to his further confusion she didn't seem to think naming armor made any sense.

The huntress turned from the rack with a smile, striding over to where he as standing and cocking her head to the side after a quick inspection.

"Heh, looks like my gift is doing its job! That ugly bruise is gone already!"

"Muh? It is?" Corvus frowned, lifting his free hand to his face and rubbing at his cheek. He supposed it did feel less sore… "Huh… maybe I just didn't get slugged as hard as I thought."

"I'm so sure," she grinned, lifting a hand to plant on his head and ruffle his hair. "Maybe you should try not to get slugged in the first place! The ladies don't much care for swollen lumps after all." She paused for a moment with a pouty face, nodding her head from side to side in deliberation. "Well, not on the face, anyways."

"Ah, shut it," he smirked, lightly batting her hand off of his head. "At least I can take a punch, Miss Dodge-for-days."

"Someone seems to be forgetting why they call me 'Untouchable'! You don't make it this long looking this good without doing  _something_ right!"

"Mmhmm. Let me pose a question, oh great and mighty Untouchable Mila… do we have any hot water left, or am I going to have to hold off on showering until tonight if I don't want to step into your rendition of the Frozen Seaway?"

"Pfft, you've never even  _been_ to the Frozen Seaway! How would you know what it's like?"

"Pictures, drawings, articles, hunt reports the fact that it's called the  _FROZEN_ Seaway… and that Kushala story you've been telling everyone every week for years. I'd say I've got a decent enough understanding to say that it's cold as balls there. SO. How much?"

"You've probably got about ten minutes worth. Save some for Dad!"

"I wouldn't have to if you did!" he replied, rolling his eyes and walking down the hall with the sound of his sister's laugh at his back.

Mila had two particularly annoying habits among others—waking up before everyone in the house, and taking entirely too long in the shower. The former was more an issue before they had moved and his room had overlooked the yard behind their home in Westvale, where she spent much of her time practicing in the waking hours of the morning, but the latter he had always lived with. At least the walls in her room here were soundproofed for some reason… though they had been like that before the Adlers moved in.

He hurried through the shower, groaning in irritation as the water started to chill after barely three minutes, then dressed himself after drying off. He stepped out into the hall while roughly drying his hair with a washcloth, shaking some of the dampness off and allowing his hair to return to its unusually-styled norm. His arm felt in good enough condition that he could forego the sling, though he'd still have to be careful not to use it too intensively for another few days.

"Two and a half, Sis!" he called as he walked past the door to her room and into his own to retrieve his satchel, taking a moment to make sure everything that was supposed to be inside, was. Belting Jeopardy on and gripping Sable in his free hand, he hurriedly left his room to head downstairs.

Admittedly he still had plenty of time to make the walk to the southern Guild station—he prided himself in his ability to pull himself together so fast—but he didn't really wish to hang around the house for long right now. He rounded the corner at the base of the stairs quick as he could and went for his coat and boots by the door, only to find the former missing from its spot on the hanger. He frowned and double checked beneath the others, but sure enough, his green coat with the red Guild patch was nowhere to be seen. He sighed in frustration, knowing the likely culprit.

Corvus reluctantly turned and strode back towards the kitchen, poking his head into the frame to get a view of the room. He was first aware of the sound and smell of sizzling of meat on the stove before doing so, and to his unsurprise, his father was indeed the one cooking it. He turned towards Corvus as he peeked his head into view, smiling in amusement.

"Morning to you too, kiddo. Hungry? Mila beat you to the punch like always, but I've got another plate just about ready."

"Think I'm good."

His response was curt and to the point, and his father's expression shifted slightly as a result, not that Corvus cared much. His vision trailed further into the room to the table Mila was seated at, her utensils flashing rapidly as she diced her meal like it was her quarry on a hunt. His coat was thrown over the chair to her left, so with a roll of the eyes he walked over to the table.

"Could you please not steal my coat when I have to get going for work?"

"Mmmmmaybe," she replied with a short grin, setting her silverware down. "If you'll join us for breakfast!"

"How about I just hold Gambit hostage again instead? Unlike you and your 'stab stuff whenever I feel up to it' career, I've got a nine-to-five job, and I'd like to  _not_ be late."

"It's not even a quarter past eight, Corvus."

"Promptness is generally considered to be a good habit,  _Dad._ "

"And eating breakfast is generally considered a  _healthy_ habit _,_ so sit your butt down and eat," Mila said, shooting him a commanding look while patting the chair his coat was slung over. He pouted at her briefly, but surrendered with a sigh of irritation, sinking into the seat with a dour expression. Moments later a plate stacked high with eggs, sausage, and toast slid under his nose, assaulting his nostrils with the delicious aroma of a well-balanced meal—his defenses caved effortlessly, and his stomach audibly growled before he began to dig in, earning a chuckle from his father and sister.

"People can fib, but stomachs? Not so much," Wes said, seating himself across from Corvus and to Mila's right. His gray eyes flicked towards the scratched-up plate in front of the huntress, and he raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I said it a hundred times, I'll say it again. I'm not sure the plates can survive much more of that abuse, Little Bird. Maybe slow down a little? It's a knife and fork, not a pair of dual blades."

"Oh, uh… woops! Sorry? Can't help it when your cooking is  _so good!_ Really, it's THE best—just like the cook, heheh!"

"I think you've been hanging around Falia too much," Corvus said between bites, poking his fork in her direction before waving it off to the side with a deliberate shrug. "Or maybe not. She cleared an entire platter on her own last night without even leaving a scratch. You could learn a thing or two from her example."

"Pfft! You're acting like she didn't shovel half of it into her bag to save for later. They might have vacuum stomachs but they still appreciate warmed-up leftovers as much as anyone."

"That  _is_ how they do, more or less. In all the years I've known him I never understood why Viper didn't just ask me to show him how I cook."

"It's just the Dente brand of torture—forcing you to cook for bottomless bellies until the end of your days. Or, maybe you're their salvation—the only thing that stops them from consuming all that exists is a growing tab."

"You might just be onto something there," Wes laughed, and Corvus smirked briefly before realizing himself and hardening his expression. He quickly finished his food and pushed himself up, grabbing hold of his coat while doing so. "Gonna be off then?"

"Like I said, promptness is a good habit. Be back later."

"Careful out there, li'l bro!" Mila called as he turned and left the kitchen. Throwing his coat on and buckling the straps of his boots, Corvus then pushed his way out onto the rainy streets of Ran Fos, taking a deep breath before beginning the trek to the southern Guild station.

He understood why Mila was trying to get him to hang around the house longer—or, more accurately, hang around their father more often. Corvus didn't exactly hide the fact that, in spite of all the respect he had for the Adlers of the past, heroes and legendary figures obscured by history and time, he didn't quite hold Wes to that same regard. He certainly had, for a time—Wes had been a key figure in defeating Balestra and slaying Dire Miralis, a feat old legends he had read pretty much equated to preventing the apocalypse. So sure, their father WAS a hero, and he WAS a good parent… but he had failed them all when he needed to succeed the most, and Corvus couldn't yet forgive him for that.

He couldn't forgive the death of his mother.

* * *

A long train of carriages rattled along a well-worn path in the eastern reaches of Maglea. Here the terrain was tough and blackened, with little vegetation to be seen the further from the middle of the country you got. Tall mountains lined the horizon, some with their tops blown off who-knows-how many years before due to volcanic activity. The rough and rocky landscape made up the region of the country overseen by the Guild in the mining village of Harth, and it contained the Volcanic Hollow hunting grounds. There was no shortage of powerful monsters inhabiting that locale.

The thought brought an ambitious grin to Zeke's face as he sat back leisurely in the wagon he had rented and looked out the window, propping his feet up on his equipment chest. It was stuffed to the brim as usual with monster parts, supplies for the hunts he embarked on, spare armor… certainly no space for the many, many weapons packed into the cart around him. One of every type of hunting armament was mounted on the walls or leaned up against them. Each one had some wear and tear from use over several years, but each was still in excellent condition. The S-series Zinogre armor he wore showed similar signs of battle-wear on it, roughed up in several places and lighter in others where teal blue plates had to be replaced entirely. His helmet rested on the sill to his right, ready for him to pick up and put on in a moment's notice if need be.

Ezekiel Alexandrios was a tall, burly man of twenty-four years, many of which were either spent on the hunting grounds or training to get back onto them. He had a pair of sharp brownish-red eyes and light chestnut brown hair he did his best to keep ruffled forwards like an array of spikes, though his helm had a tendency to quash them down onto his forehead. A close-shaved beard lined his sharp and chiseled jawline, matched well by a straight nose and forward-resting brow that gave him a forceful, zealous expression. A pale scar ran up the right side of his face, ending just beneath his cheekbone, while two smaller scars ran parallel on either side, ending several inches lower than the middle.

He shifted one foot over the other as he continued to watch the dark and hardy landscape pass on by. The caravan he had signed on with would be arriving in the village of Ancile soon. He'd never actually been to this settlement, though he knew one of its inhabitants rather well. That was the exact reason for this visit. It would take some effort to convince Lowell to join him, he had no doubt of that, but he'd manage. He couldn't let this opportunity slip on by.

Zeke's thoughts shifted back to that discussion with the peculiar man with the orange headband earlier that month. He had just approached from out of nowhere it seemed, acting like a bumbling fool… yet he knew much it seemed, and spoke of even greater possibilities. The documents and reports he'd shown as proof were completely legitimate as well. Normally that kind of information being out of the Guild's hands might warrant great concern, but Zeke was none too worried. He just knew what the Guild was keeping on the down-low… and he'd use that information wisely.

With it he would slay an Elder Dragon.

The hunter grunted as he felt the wagon train come to a halt, causing the various weapons around the carriage to shift and lightly clatter about. He frowned—Ancile was supposed to be at least another hour or so away, wasn't it? That's what the caravan master had said at least… but there weren't any panicked shouts or similar signs suggesting they were under attack. Zeke didn't particularly like being delayed for any reason aside from that. With a frustrated sigh he pushed himself up and pushed out of his wagon, stepping onto the brownish-grey road the Vendita caravan had been traveling over.

Making his way to the head of the train, Zeke noted that the red-garbed caravan master Vendetti (who was pretentious enough to name his caravan after himself) was standing near two armored hunters and a handler, conversing about whatever it was that was holding them up. As he approached the three turned to look his way, and the caravan master frowned.

"What's the problem? Something more pressing than a broken spoke, I would hope."

"Something more pressing indeed, 'Ace'. Trenton thinks he spied trouble up ahead… and those handlers have sharp eyes, if nothing else." Vendetti gestured towards the man garbed in leather field wear with a massive quest tome at his side, and a pair of amplifying specs on his forehead—the 'sharp eyes'.

The handler pointed down the road leading towards the mountainous pass they had been heading towards. Various boulders, more like large stacks and piles of rocks, were strewn about the area ahead, on either side of the path. They were rather familiar sights, actually—similar formations could be seen in the Everwood, further south in the Primal Forest, even the Ancestral Steppe. One might mistake the clutter for the remnants of a rockslide perhaps, only the mountains weren't quite close enough for any shifts of that sort to cause a mess like this. Plus, most of the rocks were worn by the elements, suggesting they'd been around for a long time. Some did seem a lot fresher compared to the others, though….

"There's a Ruby Basarios in that patch of boulders ahead of us... as well as a collection of regular Basarios. I couldn't count off each one, but I believe there are at least three," the handler said. "I've also reason to suspect this Ruby Basarios is a local named creature known as the Crystal Guide, earning that title by supposedly leading 'herds' of regular Basarios between here and the Everwood. It's the only reason I can assume so many would all be grouped together like this. While the reports say it's mostly docile, it has been known to attack when disturbed."

"Caravans ain't quiet. We drive past making all this noise, we're bound to piss 'em off," the huntress known as Marcia said. She was garbed in Iodrome plate mail and had a Plesioth bowgun strapped to her back. Trenton was her handler, from what Zeke had gathered.

"It'd be safest to double back and take another road," the other hunter, Klark, said. He was cloaked head to toe in bulky and honestly rather fat Gypceros armor, and had a Rathian switch axe hanging off his back. "Basarios are a pain in the ass to deal with already, let alone a whole gaggle of them."

"How much time would Klark's suggestion cost us?" Zeke asked, shifting his gaze from the rocks ahead back towards the caravan master. The man shrugged, then scratched at his stubbly grey beard in thought.

"Probably a day or two at least. I'm inclined to agree with these two—Basarios are stubborn when they decide to lay low. Sometimes they won't move for weeks. Driving past is risky, and so is trying to force them to move along. If it were just one, then maybe, but with the Crystal Guide there…"

The Zinogre-clad hunter scowled in frustration, rolled his eyes, and turned around to walk back towards his carriage. Basarios had hard, rock-like shells encasing their bodies that made blades and bullets nearly useless until the stone layer was broken. Considering how many hunters favored blades, there was a presumption that Basarios and its adult version, Gravios, were some of the most troublesome monsters to face in the country.

Zeke did not agree with that presumption. He pushed into his carriage for two things—his helmet, and the large dark-steel Iron Devil hammer propped up against the far wall. It was crude, imprecise, and brutal in its simplicity, well-worn from use and showing spots of rust in a few spots, but it was precisely the kind of weapon he needed for this momentary stopover. While he'd hoped there wouldn't be any issues on this journey, a part of him had wished that any likely monster complications would be… exotic, at the very least. Something he had yet to slay. Basarios were nothing new, though.

Pulling his helmet on, the hunter strode back up to the front of the caravan with his hammer resting over his shoulder, ignoring the looks he got from the merchants and other hunters as he walked on by. Vendetti did a double take when he saw the hunter though, quickly scrambling into his path.

"Wait wait wait, hold there! We're turning around! Where do you think you're going?"

"To sweep aside some pebbles," Zeke replied simply, shouldering past the caravan master without pause and leaving him to confusedly stutter in place.

While Vendetti made a futile effort to bark orders at the other hunters to stop him, Zeke continued his approach towards the array of stones. It took only a couple minutes, though he noted during his approach that one of the boulder stacks indeed had a collection of large coral-colored crystals growing out of it that seemed to catch what little brightness there was in the sky and shine. The sight amused him—that must've been the Crystal Guide, attempting to 'blend in' like its brethren. Perhaps monsters didn't know better in nature, but the only hunters that camouflage fooled were likely going to get themselves killed soon enough anyways. The hunting grounds were unforgiving.

So was he.

Pulling his hammer from his shoulder and gripping the handle just under the head of the weapon, the hunter let out a long, low breath before concentrating, slowly winding up for a powerful swing. As he concentrated, he felt a sense of burning ambition within himself, tapping into it to fuel his power. He had a mission to accomplish here, and these Basarios were just pieces of trash in the way of that. He'd conquer them like all the ones before, and move on with more important things.

These thoughts boiled in his mind until they reached a breaking point, and at once his arms flared to life with the orange glow of his Focus Hunting Sense. Zeke let out a furious, mighty roar as he fully wound back, swept the hammer around and up above himself, and then slammed the Iron Devil into the ground before him. The head didn't just  _thump_ into the soil, though—a massive quake shook the entire area around him, several cracks splitting through the earth in all directions, glowing with that intense orange light. Stacks of stone toppled from the quake, others cracked in half… and those that were not just stone at all burst forth from the ground in a frenzy of terrified, panicked cries.

Basarios were certainly rather ugly creatures, to be sure… they resembled boulders after all. Flat faced with round yellow eyes and a pair of stony horns, they were rather stocky flying wyverns with stumpy tails and a pair of tattered wings completely useless for the purpose of flying. Each roughly the size of a carriage, and colored a matte grey hue, their rocky hides sometimes showed hints of moss, likely a remnant from time spent in the Everwood at some point, or perhaps in the non-volcanic hollows elsewhere in the Harth region. He counted no fewer than five of the creatures emerging from the ground, as well as their crystal-carrying cousin.

Those five did not pause to ascertain what the threat was, though—the sheer force of Zeke's Focus Sense made the beasts panic and flee off towards the north to escape whatever had so thoroughly disturbed their slumber. Basarios were largely passive in their slumbering states, only becoming aggressive when disturbed… but there was a difference between being disturbed by a simple sword clinking off their back, and being disturbed by what may as well have been an earthquake occurring right next to them.

Though the rock wyverns fled in terror, the Ruby Basarios actually did pause, turning its head towards Zeke from where it stood nearly fifty yards away. The beast eyed him warily, momentarily shifting its gaze towards its fleeing 'herd' before roaring protectively and ducking its head to charge him. Though slow at its start, as the beast got moving the brief pauses between its steps lessened, and soon the Crystal Guide was thundering towards him at a shockingly fast pace.

Zeke darted to the side as it approached, turning sharply on his heel and firmly planting his foot in the ground as he swung the dented Iron Devil at the passing Basarios' leg. The large head of the hammer slammed against the beast's ankle, splitting a conspicuous crack through the thin rock layering there and causing the Peach Rock Wyvern to howl in pain—the Focus-enhanced blow threw its leg out from beneath it, toppling the creature and sending it skidding across the ground for almost a dozen yards, showering the area with dirt. A quick glance towards the head of the weapon showed it had crumpled slightly from that impact as well, leaving a 'wrinkle' at the top.

"Is that all you have?" he scoffed, pushing himself up from the crouch his attack left him in and striding towards the Crystal Guide while it pushed itself upright.

It let out a short growl as it turned towards him, lurching its head back before spewing a glob of fire at him. Zeke sidestepped the glob and again hoisted his hammer up behind him as he rushed at the wyvern. Apparently understanding the kind of power it was dealing with, the Peach Rock Wyvern instead opted to slowly back up while spewing more and more fiery projectiles at him, forcing Zeke to zigzag through the flatland as he approached. He hurled himself to the side to dodge a glob that came particularly close, and upon rolling to his feet he realized he had landed beside a stack of rocks his quake had toppled over, leaving a particularly large one nearly twice the size of his hammer's head teetering precariously atop another rock.

He wound up and slammed the weapon into the ground, again concentrating on his Focus Sense. The strike caused an upheaval all around the hunter, throwing dirt and soot into the air and also lifting the boulder several feet into the air. Zeke then pulled his hammer from the ground, swept the weapon around himself once, and drove the head into the boulder as it fell. There was a momentary delay, and then a powerful concussive force erupted between hammer and stone, blasting the boulder through the air like it had been fired from a cannon. The stone rocketed straight through the next molten liquid projectile the Basarios had launched his way and crashed into the beast's chest, forcing it back with a pained howl as the rock exploded across its body and split a crack through the shell casing there.

Though his weapon bore a noticeable crack in its side, the hunter vaulted over the rock and pressed forwards while the Crystal Guide was recovering from his attack. Seeing that the hunter had closed the gap, the Basarios then attempted to slam its shoulder down into the ground and roll over onto him, cracking off large chunks of crystal from its back in the process and scattering them all around.

Zeke ducked into a slide towards the beast's head as it barreled towards him, narrowly skidding out of the way of its attack while crystalline shards pinged off of his Zinogre armor, before jumping up and twisting around in the air to land deftly on his feet. He then charged the wyvern's vulnerable head, rotating once fully before smashing the weapon down onto its skull. The force of the blow completely shattered one of the Crystal Guide's horns and left a noticeable dent in its forehead, though the strike only stunned the creature for a brief moment. It reared its head up as Zeke pulled his hammer back, throwing the hunter back a few paces and spitting another glob of molten fire at him before he could recover. He grunted as he awkwardly swept the head of his hammer upwards, striking the glob in midair and bursting it into tiny droplets that fizzled out very quickly after landing on his armor. However, the head of the Iron Devil was now slathered in what might as well have been lava. Though he had avoided injury, the old and battered weapon would be useless in a matter of minutes.

"You should have run with your herd, monster," Zeke scowled as he recovered fully, hoisting the weapon behind him as the Basarios approached him. "I  _might_ have even considered letting you live, but now I'm going to need a new hammer."

The hammer wielder rushed to the left as the Crystal Guide shifted and attempted to slam into him with a hipcheck, rolling out of the way of the creature's weight at the last second. He hit spiraled back to his feet, kicking dirt and gravel up behind him, then launched forwards and slammed the Iron Devil into the Basarios' jaw with a Focus-enhanced uppercut. A concussive blast erupted outwards from the force of the blow, and the Peach Rock Wyvern howled in shock as its head was thrown so far back that it tumbled onto its back ten yards away. While the beast was struggling to right itself, the Ace rushed towards its tail, running up the rocky lash and skirting between the beast's legs as he raised the molten hammer up and fueled as much of his Focus energy into the weapon as he could, glaring down at the Crystal Guide's exposed chest. He could practically see its beating heart through all the rocky layering, glowing like an orange mark for him to aim at… though he wasn't just aiming for the heart.

"To dust with you!" he roared, bringing the hammer down on the beast's chest.

In spite of the damage done to the hammer up until then, and even further distending from the lava coating it, the sheer power behind the blow caused it to crack through the plating and bury itself into the Basarios' body. A moment later, reality seemed to understand just how destructive that strike had been. A powerful eruption of energy shot through the Iron Devil, completely blowing up the head of the weapon directly into the Crystal Guide's chest cavity. So immeasurable was the strength unleashed by that attack that once the force traveled through the monster's body, liquefying much of its insides, the ground shuddered thirty yards all around, throwing stones and dirt into the air like the peak of a volcano had just blown off. When the dust settled after nearly half a minute, the Crystal Guide was as unmoving as the rocks all around.

Zeke hopped down from the monster's carcass, casually tossing aside the grip of his ruined hammer as he made his way towards the Basarios' head. Working his carving knife into the proper crooks and separations of the plating was a chore, but after a few minutes he had fully removed the Crystal Guide's skull from its body. Fortunately it was in quite good condition, so having it made into a new weapon didn't seem far out of the question. Blood still dripping from the severed neck, Zeke hoisted the Guide's skull over his shoulder and began to head back towards caravan Vendito. The train hadn't moved much from when he'd left—everybody was lined up at the front, watching the Zinogre-armored hunter return with wide eyes and mouths agape.

"Let's be off then, shall we?" he said, patting Vendetti on the shoulder with his free hand as he passed the caravan master by. He paused beside Trenton, who blinked a few times and shook his head when he realized Zeke was looking at him. "Was there a quest for the Guide?"

"U-uh… N-no, actually, it only caused problems when threatened, so-"

"No claims on it then. Good. Tell them they can take whatever they want off the body, so long as they work quickly. I would be appreciative if we arrived at Ancile before nightfall."

The caravan got moving after about two hours, with that time being spent carving materials from the Crystal Guide's body for either selling or delivery of societal upkeep materials to the Guild, and slowly navigating the carriage train over the various splits and cracks the Basarios herd and Zeke's Focus powers and rent through the trail.

Vendito continued on the path to Ancile without any further issue, reaching a valley between two massive rock shelves after several hours. They journeyed on through the valley for a long while—perhaps another hour or so. Zeke occupied that time by clearing off some particularly annoying blood splatters, dirt clumps, and singe marks from the teal plating, then by reading through some old letters he held onto. There was always fan mail, some of which was particularly endearing, but of true note were those correspondences with the other Faces.

He was fairly certain he knew how best to convince Lowell to join him, and tracking Mila down would be simple; convincing her would likely be just as easy, even with her whole 'I don't kill if I don't have to' ideology. A pretty little conviction, even if it held her back more often than not. Alastor was the one that'd probably cause the most problems given how little he replied to the rest of them and how hard he normally was to track down... and their ethical squabble about a year and a half prior. Zeke just hoped that Mercutio fellow would be as reliable as he promised he'd be…

The train turned on a long bend, then gradually made its way up a fairly steep incline before coming to a halt at long last, the sun just beginning to dip over a nearby peak. Zeke sighed—there'd been no complications on the road after all. He changed out of his armor and into a more comfortable outfit consisting of a black top, deep purple vest, tan pants, and slightly-scuffed black boots. As his feet hit the gravel outside his rented carriage, his gaze turned towards the village of Ancile.

The settlement was built on a flat peak nestled in the middle of several taller mountains around it, acting as a sort of natural wall around the area that gradually sloped towards the village before abruptly sloping back up towards the plateau. Those 'lowlands' had a surprising amount of vegetation in them, suggesting the soil here was much better for growing than the rest of the area. That was likely why a village could survive so far out in the middle of nowhere like this. The village itself was surrounded by a manmade wall of stone comprised of roughly chiseled stone blocks, while the entrance was blocked by a metal cage gate. Several other caravans had set up outside the village, though one in particular bore a lot of Guild flags on it… perhaps someone important was in town? As he watched the gate slowly rose up into the wall above, and some of the caravan members made their way into the village. He breathed the crisp, slightly rocky air in deeply, then proceeded into the village as well.

The buildings were mostly made from the same stone as the walls, coloring the town a strange mix of greys, blacks, and browns, though color was added in the form of flags, banners, and painted signs all over, giving the town a lot more color and liveliness than the outside might suggest. The buildings were, like the walls, mostly built from stone blocks to prevent anything important from igniting in case a fire-breathing wyvern decided to pay a visit. The stone block construction left most of the buildings looking very… well, blocky. While they seemed flat from street level, perhaps they were designed to catch rainwater for use by the inhabitants? Any other water sources would have to come from one of the nearby streams flowing down the side of one of the mountains. Otherwise the village had a very uniform layout, making it seem rather easy to get around. Many people walked the streets as well—it was certainly not a large settlement like the sprawling underground complex that was Harth, nor was it the booming metropolis that was Dundorma. It was a small place, probably occupied by a few hundred people at best.

What really caught his eye was the number of hunters in the village—not that the number seemed excessive, but that they all seemed to be inside the walls. Most hunters would be local types in a small settlement such as this, though that didn't mean none would be out in the fields gathering resources or anything. But looking around as he walked through the streets, he saw plenty of disgruntled expressions… more fearful than not. He continued on through the village, scanning the signs while keeping his ears trained on the grumblings and whispers around him. It didn't take much to learn what was going on.

The Reapers were in town.

He sighed heavily at the revelation. The Reapers were hunters with one very important mission—to hunt down any Gore Magalas that appeared without hesitation. The mysterious creatures had begun appearing a long while ago, when he was barely half as tall as he was now and maybe only a third as old. They brought only death and horror with them in the black clouds containing the Frenzy Virus, an ailment that could kill an afflicted person in less than a day. Hybrids had it even worse—driven mad by it before death came before the hour was out. The beasts liked to spread the virus and hide themselves away, emerging to feed on the bodies left in the wake of darkness.

The Reapers were the only real solution to the problem the Guild had. Even the so-called Ace Hunters were no match for a young Gore Magala. G-level hunters, disgraced by beast that appeared as if from nowhere. Had it not been for the Capital C's hunter, that incident would have become disastrous. That hunter, along with several other individuals, were completely immune to the Frenzy and could withstand prolonged exposure to it, allowing them to combat the black beasts where others could not. The reason for this immunity was as of yet unknown, but their existence was a beacon of hope against the Frenzy—the virus would disperse when the host Gore Magala was slain.

As a result the Guild created the group and sent Reapers to investigate any rumors pertaining to a Gore—if left alive they could threaten the stability of nearly any kind of ecosystem, and could easily wipe out entire cities if allowed to wander freely. They were some of the only creatures the Guild actively decreed would be hunted with prejudice—so long as a Gore was in the area, all hunting was put on hold until it was dealt with by the Reapers. As for why they were called 'Reapers'… in truth, while their job was to prevent Gore Magalas from killing people, following rumors usually meant the Frenzy had already visited an area. The hunters that arrived amidst it all soon became associated with it. Wherever the Reapers went, death was all but certain.

Yet, it seemed as though the Reapers sent by the Guild had been gone hunting for some time—more than a day, at the least. Only a few townsfolk had become afflicted with the Frenzy Virus while outside the town—about half a dozen were dead, while two others had become afflicted while tending to them. Certainly a grim situation… but Lowell's name never came up amongst the casualties. Certainly fortunate news—he'd hate to have come all this way only to find the Jack dead. He supposed there had been worse cases of the Frenzy as well, so this being a minor case was a blessing too.

Following the signs on the streets, Zeke soon found himself outside a long building, nearly the length of three houses end-to-end. A sign over the door read 'Svalinn Refurbishments: Rust Is a Thing of the Past!' He made to open the door, only to frown when the knob refused to turn—locked? At this time of day? Most similar establishments kept their doors open long after sundown… maybe this was just a small town thing. The hunter grunted in frustration and back up a few paces, scratching at his beard in thought.

"Ho there! What can I help you with?"

Zeke turned at the low-yet-light voice behind him and to the side, catching sight of a dark-haired man striding towards him carrying a large crate. His black hair was parted down the middle rather cleanly, offering a clear view of his deep purple eyes and smoothly-sculpted facial features. He had a rounded nose with a scar running horizontally over the bridge of and beneath both eyes, and a long chin. He had a cool and composed expression—steely, even. He was most certainly built like a hunter too, being quite muscular beneath his brown and white soot- and rust-stained clothing. Zeke grinned as he recognized who he was looking at. The dark-haired hunter's brow furrowed in confusion for a few moments after he set the crate down outside the building, then the light of realization lit up in his eyes.

"Well, color me surprised! If it isn't the Ace himself. How are you doing, Zeke?"

"Lowell, my old friend, it's been much too long," Zeke chuckled, clasping arms with the hunter and embracing him for a short moment. "Two years now, I believe?"

"Aye, with that Nerscylla hunt. Now that's a fond memory… Well, I won't treat you like a stranger," Lowell said, fishing a key from his pocket and opening the doorway, then grabbing the crate of supplies. Zeke followed him inside—the entire first floor of the building was a workshop of sorts. There were several tables and rolling wheels, as well as a furnace, anvils, water troughs, work benches, sort of what you'd expect from a forge, only… not exactly. Lowell set the large box down by one of the workstations, then turned towards Zeke. "Sorry the rest of the family isn't here to greet you. Most of them are at the caravan trying to get all the earth crystals they can carry. The rest, the market. Similar reasons."

"Worry not. Have the… recent happenings affected your house?"

"Fortunately they haven't beyond business. The Frenzy is a blight I wish no one had to suffer, but there's little I can do to shield the entire town from something like it."

"Ever the staunch defender of Ancile, aren't you? Bag anything noteworthy since that last letter you sent?"

"Do I have a Brachydios tale for you…" Lowell smirked, folding his arms. "But as much as I'd love to catch up, I'm more curious about the purpose of this surprise visit. You didn't even send me a letter beforehand. Why did you come out here, Zeke?"

"Right to the point; that's why we get along. I came to ask you for your help with something."

"The Earthshaker, asking for help? Pinch me, I must be dreaming."

"I know, it's quite frightening!" Zeke laughed. "As much as I would love to convince myself this is a task I could handle on my own, the simple truth is that it is not. In fact… it's a task I feel very few would be capable of handling even together."

"Really? Well, now you've piqued my curiosity. Tell me, what is this 'task' of yours?"

"I intend to hunt down Tempest."

The dark-haired hunter blanched at the mention of the dragon's name, staring Zeke's way for several moments with an expression of disbelief.

"You cannot be serious."

"Would I have come all this way if it was a joke? The expenses all came out of my own pocket, you know."

"That's just… Zeke, this is absurd. I'm not downplaying either of our achievements when I say Tempest is a beast beyond what you and I can handle. They say its gale blasts can snap redwoods like toothpicks! It would take a full team of G Rank hunters,  _with_  Sense or magic, to even stand a chance against it. Even then there's no guarantee of success."

"Precisely why I don't aim to do this with only the two of us. I'm gathering the Faces," Zeke said with an ambitious grin, clenching his fist in the air before himself. "The four of us together, with all our feats and accomplishments over the last five years? I believe ourselves to be a match for Tempest—no, more than a match! Imagine the fame, the renown! They'll sing songs about us in taverns around the country for decades, if not centuries!"

"Getting a little ahead of yourself there, friend. No one even knows where Tempest  _is._ The last confirmed sighting was... months ago, at least."

"Worry not, I have a… reliable source with access to private missives sent out by the Dragonwatch. Tempest is gradually moving south from the polar regions into the Everwood, specifically to a nesting place it frequents during the rainy season. Why it's moving now during the dry season is a mystery, but the fact remains that it's been sighted, I know where it's going, and I know roughly when it'll be there."

"This is sounding highly illegal already… What makes you think the Guild would purposefully allow us to hunt a G-level threat? Last I checked they don't really like making exceptions to any of their rules."

"The Guild won't 'purposefully' do anything… apart from letting us embark on an expedition that may just-so-happen to lead to us crossing paths with a certain Kushala Daora. Then we'll defend ourselves from an elder dragon and successfully slay it… all without crossing any lines 'on purpose'."

"By the gods, he's actually being serious…" Lowell sighed under his breath, unfolding his arms and striding across the room to another table and seating himself on the edge. "Alright, so you've apparently gotten most of this figured out—I mean, aside from where in the massive stretch of the Everwood Tempest will be heading towards, or  _when_  it'll be there, or… plenty of other things that could very easily go wrong. I'll assume for a moment that you  _do_ actually have this entire thing figured out. Why should I help? Don't get me wrong, you and I are friends, Zeke, and that alone should be reason enough. But… an elder dragon is not a threat to take lightly, and an elder dragon that's hundreds of miles from my village hardly seems like it should be a concern to me and my home. If it's not threatening Ancile, I really don't see much reason to hunting it. Tempest isn't exactly the most nefarious elder dragon in existence either—certainly no Dire Miralis."

Zeke knew this was coming already. Lowell specifically became a hunter to defend his hometown—his childhood hero was a town guardsman. He loved his hometown so much he barely ever really left after returning for good a couple years back, having been minted as a high rank hunter and feeling himself ready to act as his village's guardian. Getting him to leave would be the most challenging part… but, Zeke was prepared.

"Ancile. Well, I'll admit the town has a quaint little charm to it, but I don't really know much of anything about the place. You definitely love it here though," Zeke nodded, slowly walking past the table the dark-haired hunter was seated on. "Lowell, let me ask you this. What if I were to tell you that Tempest would be coming dangerously close to the border cities? Mistwood, Ran Fos… they'd be in danger. We both know how Elder Dragon attacks happen—there's never enough warning. Even if they have a few G Rank hunters in those cities, the damage would be catastrophic. There'd be countless, pointless deaths. Tempest may not be an evil creature, but it has attacked villages before. There's a reason it has that name. Elder Dragons are impossible to understand—they're living natural disasters that could rampage at a moment's notice. Who knows why it's traveling south at this time of year in the first place? The entire situation is a dangerous uncertainty. So, if you had the opportunity to defend anyone from a threat of that magnitude, knowing you had the chance to prevent a catastrophe like that… wouldn't you? Wouldn't you act as another town's shield too?"

"Of course I would," Lowell replied without even a second of hesitation. "I'm not wholly opposed to the idea, I'm just not exactly on board with it either. Slaying Tempest is an exhilarating thought, but is it really  _necessary?_ Or is this just glory-hounding?"

"That's up to you to decide, my friend. Perhaps my mind is in the wrong place to you—I  _do_ seek recognition for this. But, I would much rather achieve that recognition by fighting alongside those whom I have the most faith in. Our reasons can differ, so long as we are united in the hunt."

"…I really don't get how you can come up with all this crap on the spot, and I  _know_ you're playing me… but gods be damned if you aren't convincing," Lowell sighed. "Alright, I'll make a deal with you. With the Reapers in Ancile, I'm not exactly sure this is the best time for me to be going off on an adventure like this. Once the Gore Magala situation calms down, and I've made sure there's no… lingering issues, I'll join you. Better me than some other poor sod you may try and drag into this, eh? You can count on my shield to keep you and the others safe, Zeke."

Zeke smiled and clasped arms with the lance-user then, and the two nodded in agreement to the pact.

"I suppose I had been planning to make a trip out to Ran Fos before long anyways," he continued as he released Zeke's arm, striding over towards a wall upon which several weapons were mounted. "I owe Mila a favor, after all."

Most of the weapons were forged from some kind of advanced metal Zeke couldn't recognize, many of which were 'cracked' with a kind of inner green light that pulsed with a rather ominous glow. Armaments once forged by the Ancient Civilization during the Great Dragon War. Some were in markedly better condition than others, some appearing to be missing large segments eaten away by time, while others seemed as though they had been forged new. Lowell came to a pause by the wall, reaching out for a pair of crescent-shaped blades and removing them from the wall hooks they were mounted on to inspect the edges.

"Hah! Are you sure you're not just trying to bump yourself up on her good list?" Zeke grinned, folding his arms while he surveyed the wall, eyes lingering on a particularly massive great sword with some kind of glowing green manuscript etched into the blade. "I wouldn't doubt the quickest way to the Queen's heart would be an offering of swords."

"That's not quite what I—" Lowell turned towards him, only to pause and look down contemplatively at the twin blades in his hands. "Actually, you very well might be onto something there. Perhaps a bouquet of blades... I'll have to remember that.  _BUT,_ I actually do owe her."

"How so?"

"Earlier last year she helped me deal with a Gravios that was blocking a crucial lava flow in the Volcanic Hollow. Damn thing was too stubborn to move even when we had gunners firing on it, but her Radiance did the trick. Took us two hours to finally drive the thing off, but we kept Harth from suffering another lava blockage, so the Troverians didn't fall into another mortal depression. I insisted on splitting the reward money, but she wouldn't have it. Just asked me to refurbish some rusty blades her handler happened upon, then dumped a mountain of earth crystals and zenni at my feet to cover expenses. The fact that she had  _more_ than enough was what boggled my mind. She must do a lot of mining. Pops would probably love to hire her for the business..."

"Hrm… doesn't this process take elder dragon blood though?" Zeke inquired, to which Lowell nodded in affirmation.

"Not as much as you'd think, but yes. Thankfully any Mohran hunted in the Great Desert can put enough blood on the market to last a couple months. That, and all the Kirin hunts some wyverian smith in Dundorma has been putting up lately are really helping make the blood flow, so to speak."

"Ah, I'd heard those rumors. Perhaps once we have slain Tempest I can follow up on one of those hunts myself," the hunter said with a devilish grin, scratching his chin and nodding. He'd yet to hunt a Kirin due to their rarity, but for some reason it seemed a number had been appearing in the Everwood as of late, supposedly due to their mating season or something. Plus, they WERE grouped into the high rank monster bracket, so there wouldn't need to be any secrecy like this matter with Tempest. Another quest for another time, he supposed. "Speaking of rare beasts, though… there is one factor that could undermine our hunt for Tempest."

"Aside from getting ourselves killed, or not finding it at all, or having been fed false information in the first place, or—"

"Yes yes, you can quite keep the pessimism to yourself, thank you. I'm talking about Alastor. I have heard tell of his exploits all over Maglea, but I have no clue where he is. I haven't even heard from him in… nearly a year and a half now."

"The ever-reclusive King, eh?" Lowell mused, setting the twin blades down on a table next to him. "Well, I suppose you're in luck—I have heard from him recently. Got a letter a week or two ago, though it was as short as ever. Didn't say too much aside from the Cheeko Sands area as his next heading. He might not be there anymore, but it's a start, right?"

"A start is certainly more than I had before learning that. I'd best get in contact with a caravan on its way out of town so I can take an airship from Harth—the sooner I find Alastor, the better. We've only a month before my source's prediction about Tempest's arrival, and Ran Fos is the best location to strike out from. Considering Mila is already there and likely won't be leaving anytime soon, finding our masked friend is a greater priority."

"Understood. I'll send a letter to her telling her to stay in the city around the time we'll all be there—and don't worry, I'll be covert about it. As for you, I think Saleh and Gerik's group intends to leave for Harth tomorrow. They're a bunch of crazy fools to be willing to leave during a Magala crisis, but I figure a bunch of crazy fools would be right up your alley. And if you need a place for the night, I'm certain we've a room to spare."

"I very well may take you up on that, Lowell," Zeke grinned. The Four Faces… Himself, the Ace; Alastor, the King; Mila, the Queen; and Lowell, the Jack. Tempest would break against their might, and they would become legends…

The mere thought lit his eyes with fiery ambition.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter about wake up routines, hammer time, and secret plans!
> 
> One of the aspects of the story I've had a lot of fun writing so far is the interactions between the Adler family. Considering this is a central theme to the characters of Corvus and Mila, I suppose it's good that I'm having fun with it, but it also has the benefit of giving me a new way to flesh out the characters and their personalities. Here we find out that Corvus has some mommy issues to work out.
> 
> We also get to meet two of the other Faces, which leads us into the beginning of the Tempest arc! Zeke is a pretty fun-if-simple character that kinda embodies the mindset I feel a lot of MonHun players have, which is conquering nature. His Focus Sense naturally plays off of that. As for Lowell, well, he's not too complex either, but the guy has a pretty grounded motivation I haven't really used for other characters in my stories, which is keeping his hometown safe. Kinda like the offline protagonists of most of the earlier games, really. Of course, these two share one thing in common that happens to ALSO be shared by most characters in the story: pride.
> 
> As far as story arcs go, I get to have a little fun with the dual protagonists gimmick by having two arcs run simultaneously. Mila is involved with the Tempest arc, while Corvus gets wrapped up in the Voucher arc and another one later on in this book. The Tempest arc doesn't really pick up until most of the way through Corvus' first arc though, so I wouldn't get too worried about the plots getting tangled up. I'm a simple man, so I'm trying to keep things simple. Kind of.
> 
> And that wraps up everything save for one last detail! Zeke's voice is Ian Sinclair, specifically based off of role as Berkut in Fire Emblem Echoes (easily one of the best voice performances I've ever heard in a game tbh) while Lowell's voice is Christian La Monte, based off of his work in FE Heroes as Seliph and Roderick. 
> 
> Let me know if you enjoyed the chapter!


	5. Sensibility

 

Chapter 5: Sensibility

With a disgruntled sigh Corvus dragged his gaze across the wrecked interior of the tavern, drumming his fingers on the folder in his hands while keeping out of the way of the Guild officers that were escorting a number of bloodied hunters out of the building. He'd seen tavern brawls before, but it was usually the aftermath that left him speechless. Tables shattered, chairs smashed, windows cracked… this hadn't just been a brawl, it was a damn fight club. The interior was entirely devoid of patrons—most had run out during the altercation to avoid getting caught up in it all. Still, a few members of the staff and the plump old fellow who owned the place remained, gathered around the bar to stare over the scene before them with varying expressions. The surveyor sighed as the last hunter was pulled outside, and he strode over to the bar.

"So… happy hour, huh?"

The dry remark didn't earn him a glance from even one of the dozen members of the staff. Every pair of eyes was fixated on the destroyed dining space. A low creaking filled the room as a fixture hanging above the room continued to swing about, up until it pulled free from the ceiling with the sound of cracking wood, dropping to the floor with a loud crash that made everyone there wince. As the dust settled one man, the owner most likely, groaned in dismay, letting his head thump against the counter. One of the waiters put a hand on his shoulder sympathetically.

"This will cost me a fortune… I'll have to shut down until the furniture can be replaced, and all the repairs that have to be done… oh, why did those barbarians have to come to  _my_ tavern of all the ones in Ran Fos?!"

"Just a spot of bad luck, I'd say. You won't have to pay this all out of your own pocket though," Corvus assured, taking a few steps towards the man as he put on his reading glasses and flipping the folder open. "The hunters will be fined accordingly, but until that happens the Guild will make sure you can get this place up and running again. Expect a conciliation check before too long."

"That really doesn't change the fact that my business is in actual shambles now, but… thank you."

"If you want to thank me, you all could help me sort this mess out. I was investigating one of those hunters for a number of complaints and infractions surrounding a recent hunt report. His name's Byron—coincidentally, a fellow named Byron was just carted out of here, black and blue, on a stretcher. Since he's out like a light and the other three aren't in much better condition… Mind telling me what exactly happened?"

"Aye… It was a fairly ornery afternoon. About the same amount of customers, nothing really standout… then that Byron fella comes in. He's a bit of a loudmouth, always has been, but he's goin' on and on about makin' some 'big haul' this time."

"He seemed a bit touched in the head," the waiter added with a sigh. "Probably stopped at another few taverns on the way here… he's a bit of a regular, so we're used to it. Normally he's not  _that_ bad."

"Says  _you_ ," a waitress pouted with an exaggerated eye roll, something three other waitresses mutter their agreement with. "So Byron's being a drunken prick like usual, but then three other hunters practically kick the door in. They all looked a bit beaten up already—not in the 'got roughed up in a fist fight' kinda way, but more in the 'got run over by a charging wyvern and just left the hospital' way. They start spitting venom his way, tried to grab him, and… well, you see what came of that."

"Three gimps and a drunkard did all of  _this?_ " Corvus asked incredulously, pausing in his note writing to gesture across the destroyed tavern. One of the few standing tables cracked at the base and fell over as he did so, making him flinch at the sound of the edge colliding with the floor.

"People were taking bets up until he sent one of those sods flying to the rafters. Punched him so hard every table around them got thrown over—and if you'll look up, you'll see the print in the ceiling from where he was stuck for about half a minute."

Corvus craned his neck upwards, and sure enough, quite visible beyond the rafters was a man-shaped dent in the thick wood ceiling.

"Huh. Well that's terrifying."

"A sentiment all of my patrons seemed to agree with!" the manager grumbled, throwing his arms up in frustration. "You should have seen them rushing to get outside! I was certain about five more fights were going to break out just because of the mob! I don't even have a  _door_ anymore! Oh, what a disaster…"

"So, the three new arrivals started the fight then? They say anything important leading up to that?" Corvus asked, turning towards the waiter. The one that had spoken previously shook his head and shrugged, but another one stepped forwards.

"I was mopping the floor by the entrance when they came in. They were saying he'd stolen their carves, or something along those lines. Didn't really catch anything else, but..."

"Mm. Well, it's not much, but it helps with this case. Suppose I'll be off. Good luck with getting this place up and running again."

"I'll need all the good fortune I can get…" the manager groaned as Corvus strode towards the door, sliding the folder back into his bag and pulling his hood up as he stepped over the shattered remains of the front door.

A small crowd had gathered around outside, held back from approaching the tavern by a few Guild officers. Barfights usually weren't much to gawk at, and even the one Mila had gotten wrapped up in after her exam only ended up with a couple broken bottles and a few tables in need of repair. That being said, one that left the building in shambles and that caused an entire crowd of people to run away screaming like a murder had just taken place was anything but 'typical'. Considering Mila had actively been trying to break things up and STILL got a hefty fine, Corvus couldn't help but feel like these four were going to be bankrupt at best. It was for that precise reason most hunters at least had the courtesy to take their scuffles outside.

The area in front of the building was occupied by a couple other investigators questioning witnesses. He could leave the scene to them for the time being. He had to report back to Captain Viper about this. Corvus made his way towards one of the crowds, slinking around to the side of the road to more easily squeeze past the onlookers.

That scene was nothing short of a complete mess, though he had a fair guess as to what had happened. The report on Byron stated that he possessed use of the destructive Focus Hunting Sense, which was probably how he'd so thoroughly trashed the other hunters and the rest of the tavern. Corvus had little experience with Sense beyond what he'd seen five years prior at Mila's hunter's examination, but given the condition of all the hunters when the fight had concluded Byron had to have given at least three times as hard as he'd gotten. Hunting Sense users were something else…

"Oi, Short Stuff!"

The surveyor turned at the call, catching sight of Bartolomeo standing near the rear of the crowd. The hunter was outfitted in orange armor striped with blue and lined with dangerously sharp fangs, while a massive bone great sword was hooked onto his back. He shot Corvus a cheery grin as he made his way over to where he was standing.

"The hell happened in there?"

"A tavern brawl that escalated... _steeply_ ," Corvus replied with a shrug. "What are you doing around here?"

"I was on my way to meet up with Desmond for a hunt and I saw all this mess. Thought he mighta gotten caught up in it on the way to our meeting place."

"No, he wasn't one of the hunters that got involved. Good thing too—the ones that were involved won't be doing much of anything for a while."

"Musta been one hell of a brawl… bah, I always miss the fun stuff. But, if Dez ain't a pulp, guess I've got nothing to worry about. Say, wanna come along? We were gonna grab a bite before we left for a hunt."

"I'd like to, but I'm on a—" Corvus paused mid-sentence, then glanced to the side in thought. It had very nearly slipped his mind, but hadn't Mila once mentioned that Bart was capable of using Hunting Sense too? His sister wasn't necessarily bad at explaining Sense… actually, check that. She was  _awful_ at explaining it. Even though she had personally tutored under the man literally known to be the leading expert on Hunting Sense function in all of Maglea.

And people figured she was a genius.

He supposed that now that it was relevant, though, a little information gathering couldn't hurt.

"Actually, sure. It's almost time for my lunch break anyhow."

"That's what I like t' hear!" Bart laughed, clapping a large hand on Corvus' shoulder and making the shorter man stagger downwards with a grunt from the rough gesture. "The place we were gonna meet up is just a block or so away, so stick close, Short Stuff!"

Fortunately keeping up with the great sword user wasn't much of a hassle for Corvus, on account of him literally clearing a path through the streets just with his massive size, intimidating armor, and enormous weapon. The way the crowd shifted to avoid clipping the hunter or his weapon while walking by left a wide open wake for the surveyor to stick to. After a fairly short walk, the two arrived at the tavern Bart was going to meet Desmond at—the Gobbling Gobul.

 _THAT'S what those pufferfish things are, right… Can't believe I keep forgetting that,_ the surveyor thought as they entered the building.

It was pretty standard fare for a tavern, pretty much no different from the last one he'd just been in… just less destroyed. The furnishings were also more focused on the color purple, and a massive pair of jaws hung over the bar. Actually, 'massive' didn't quite do them justice. Bart could stretch his arms as high above his head as he could and stand on the tips of his toes and  _still_ not reach the upper jaw. It did make for a fairly good excuse to have a loft with additional seating though. Without a high enough ceiling they might not be able to even fit the jaws inside.

The great sword user scanned the tavern briefly before his eyes went up to the loft, and his gaze settled on the tip of a gunlance leaning up against the wall. Corvus trailed after him and went up the creaky wooden stairs, shifting out of the way of a portly waiter carrying an empty tray down the steps. He and Bart both continued on to the table the gunlancer was seated at, inspecting the icy-blue gauntlet on his right arm, as well as the slinger strapped to it. His entire armor set seemed to be comprised of ice, with slatey pauldrons and sharp, gradual points galore, giving him the appearance of a frozen knight, or maybe a glacier or something.

"About time you got here," Desmond huffed when he caught sight of the man garbed in Tigrex armor. "I almost thought I got stood up again."

"Again?" Corvus asked, leaning out from behind the taller hunter to make his presence known.

"Ah, the little brother. Tell your sister that I appreciate being told  _in person_ when someone's dipping from a quest. I spent forty minutes sitting on my hands before that Felyne dropped off a note scribbled on a napkin saying she'd dropped the one we agreed on yesterday and joined on with Elliot, Ignatius, and the Hybrid."

"Ouch," he said with a sympathetic tone. He wasn't exactly surprised though. Mila had a habit of randomly dropping out of quests for one reason or another, usually to pick up a different quest that managed to pique her interest more. She was so spontaneous at times it hurt… but it probably hurt all the guys thinking they'd been stood up even more.

"Found him checking out a wrecked tavern a block back or so," Bart grunted, sliding into a chair opposite the gunlancer after leaning his great sword against the wall next to their table. "Small city, ain't it?"

"And what's a Guild surveyor doing checking out a wrecked tavern? I thought regular officers handled the ordinary stuff. Or was there a demotion I never heard about?"

"As if," Corvus scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I  _was_ following up on a strange hunt report, but the suspect's 'friends' caught up to him before I did, and long story short, the place is closed for an indeterminate amount of time."

"Couldn't really be that bad though, could it? I've known a few hunters really like to make a mess of places when a brawl breaks out, but even then it's usually only a week to clean up at most and replace a table or two."

"Try  _every_ table. And most of the chairs. And a chandelier. And—"

"Alright, I get your point. How'd they manage it before anyone from the Guild got involved though?"

"That's what has me curious too… Based on witness accounts and the hunter dossiers I have access to, the guy I was tracking down is capable of using Focus Sense. My guess is that after a few too many drinks he forgot how to hold himself back."

Bart grinned wide as Corvus said that, his eyes flitting towards Desmond before he let out a hearty laugh. "Yeah, that sounds about right! I damn near blew a wall out during a scuffle. Markus was  _not_ happy about that one! And after all the fines, neither was my wallet."

"So you  _can_ use Focus. Mayhap you could help me out then—how exactly does someone 'use' Hunting Sense? Mila always just calls it a 'feeling' or a 'twinge' or something like that, which… doesn't help much."

"I think that depends more on the type of Sense in question," Desmond answered, taking a swig from his tankard. "Mila has Aura Sense, which is… pretty rare and all kinds of different from Focus and Shield. Can't say I'm surprised she hasn't figured out a good way to explain it, but so long as it makes sense to her, she doesn't really have to."

"But it sounds like she was on the right track t' me," Bart said. "I've had Focus for a coupla years now, right? I'd say I've got a pretty good grasp on how it feels, and how I make it work. It's like a swelling  _pulse_ , yeah? It builds up, and up, and up, and then it just  _explodes_ into pure power. And when its active, I can just  _see_ things, yeah? Like weak spots, chinks in the armor… hell, I swear I can even see something's heart beatin' if it's run ragged enough! I can hit where it'll hurt the most, and I can hit  _harder_ too. Pretty useful ability to have on the hunt! …Even if seeing a Kut-Ku's beating heart through its hide nearly made me shit myself when it first happened. Sense takes a  _lot_ of getting used to early on."

"That's… helpful. Disgusting, but helpful. I always figured you had to actually, you know, 'focus' to use Focus Sense. So someone can use it even if they're inebriated?"

"Hmm… that's a tough one, yeah? It's really hard to use Sense abilities without actually trying to, but alcohol does some funny stuff to the brain. Like I said, even I've had a close call with it when I had a bit too much to drink once. Thing is, I haven't had an issue since, and I've gone blackout  _plenty_ of times. I'd say anyone with Hunting Sense is a wild card just waiting to be played once they get tipsy."

"Considering what Focus users can do when sober, that's a scary thought," Desmond muttered. "Bart's good, but the Unyielding Ace can literally break the ground with his Sense. 'Earthshaker Zeke', they call him. Then there's that archer around Cheeko Sands. What's his name? Ramsey? They say he shot an arrow clear through a Najarala's body, from head to tail, and then he picked up the arrow and shot  _another_ Najarala dead with it."

"Can't forget Silent Saiba," the great sword user added, gesturing towards the gunlancer. "He wasn't even a hunter—just a boxer that happened to get Hunting Sense one day."

"I remember him. His one-punch wins were legendary!"

"Guy went undefeated for eight years. Eight years, man! Now  _that's_ a record!"

"Shame he just fell out of it after that loss though. Haven't heard about him in a long time, actually…"

"Why do they call him 'Silent' Saiba?" Corvus asked.

"He bit his tongue off."

"...Oh."

The waiter came up to their table during that brief lull in the conversation, and both Corvus and Bart put their orders in before the surveyor spoke up again.

"How did he lose his title? Sounds to me like someone capable of winning a fight in a single blow would be unbeatable."

"Not against someone with Shield Sense," Desmond replied matter-of-factly. "Saiba had all the striking force he needed, but Julio Balbrion could take any hit Saiba threw at him thanks to Shield. Er, kinda… it was a  _damn_ close fight in the end, but Julio could just take more punishment than Saiba could dish out. An unstoppable force against and immovable object, the headlines said…"

"So, Shield beats Focus?"

"Not… exactly. As much as Focus is about offense, Shield is about, well, defense. Bart described Focus like a swelling sensation… from what I've gathered about Shield Sense, it's more like a lock clasping shut. A Shield user can make their skin hard as diamond, create a barrier around their equipment to protect allies, reflect projectiles, even make it completely impossible to be moved by  _anything._ The only real offensive ability there is that I've heard of is to absorb a blow and return it even harder… which is all stuff I  _wish_ I could do, but I haven't figured out how to even unlock Sense. Stonewall and Ironsides have better mastery of Shield than I ever will, that's for sure… but I wouldn't say Shield is necessarily better than Focus, or vice versa. They both just accomplish different things.

"Silent Saiba lost because he had no experience fighting against someone who could use Shield, while Julio had a hunter buddy that used Focus, which could help him train against it. It ultimately turned into a contest of experience and willpower, and Julio just had more of both," Desmond said, pausing to take another drink and let out a long breath. "Sense can be a bit finicky in that regards. Some people say it's like a… 'representation of the human fighting spirit'. See, the more someone believes in themselves and whatever it is that they want to do, the more powerful their Sense can become. Conversely, if someone loses sight of their goals, it's possible for their Sense to weaken. That's why some people lose the ability to use it after suffering a career-ending injury or getting their hopes dashed."

"You sure know an awful lot about all this. Boxing fan?" Corvus asked, earning a chuckle from the gunlancer.

"Caught me red handed, Short Stuff. But, I figured there was good reason to learn more about the abilities I wanted for myself, so I studied up. Since hunters don't normally get into full on fights with each other, it's not common to see Sense users going at it. Saiba and Julio's fight was important because of that."

"So what about Aura Sense, though? How does that fit into this whole thing? Is it better, worse?"

Bartolomeo and Desmond shared a look, frowned, then simultaneously shrugged.

"Too hard to say," Bart sighed. "Aura is… weird, yeah? Focus n' Shield, they're all about doing stuff to make yourself function better in combat. Aura is more… general? I don't really know how to put it."

"I believe Damien Ulrick was interviewed by Hunter's Life after his promotion to Ace Commander. Apparently his long sword is too heavy to be lifted and wielded like other long swords, but he uses his Aura to make it  _lighter._ He throws himself around by just willing the thing to weigh more or less at the drop of a hat. How exactly is a damn mystery to me. The article wasn't much clearer. Aura Sense is just bizarre. _"_

"Sis mentioned that guy giving the bird to physics once…" the surveyor mused, resting his chin on his fist in thought. He didn't really get it—Dez and Bart didn't either, from what he could tell. And Mila could barely explain it herself! "Is there anyone who actually knows more than just 'because Aura'?"

"There  _is_ a secret society in the northern mountains called the Valors. Apparently they—"

"You mean the Braves?" Corvus asked, cutting Desmond off.

"What?"

"The Braves. Mila tried signing up with them a couple years ago but got turned down, threw a real hissy fit over it. She said they were called the Braves, and that their hunting technique was called the Brave style."

Bart let out a long laugh at that remark. "Hate to break it to ya, but your sister's wrong. My hometown ain't far from their monastery. They're definitely called the Valors. It's  _Valor_  style, not Brave. I don't even know how you could get the two of those mixed up! They don't even sound alike!"

"But I could have  _sworn_  they—"

"Corvus, it doesn't matter what you think they're called. What matters is that I'm right. Anywho, the  _Valors_  know all there is to know about Aura, and their unique hunting style only works if you have it, but they're real particular about who they share all that with. One hunter got so pissed that they wouldn't share their style with him that he just went and made his own take on it. An' that's how we got Gambler style."

"Aye, Lucien Geld. He was a real wonder of a hunter… up until he got killed because of his own reckless style. Barely anyone uses it because it's just so damn  _dangerous_ to intentionally put your neck out like that just for a split-second chance at a big hit. I guess that just speaks to the skill of the six people who actually  _do_ use it," Desmond laughed. "Some say that style is specifically why the Crimson King is one of the Four Faces at all. No Hunter Arts, no Sense, just a hell of a lotta luck and skill, and the smarts to use it."

The conversation halted again as the waiter brought their food up and passed it out to each individual, and all three silently agreed to fill their bellies before talking more. That did at least give Corvus some time to mull over the carriage-load of information he just had dumped on his head. He'd probably have to write this all down later… But for the time being, he at least could write it into the report that Byron had used Focus in his intoxicated state to fight off his attackers.

After finishing his meal with the two hunters Corvus excused himself and wished them luck on their quest. Their talk had lasted a fairly long time, and he had to report back to the southern Guild post about the Byron case. Since the tavern they had eaten at was quite close to the eastern gate, and it was nearing late afternoon, Corvus decided it would be faster to head there and hitch a ride on the track cannon, even if he disliked using it. It was a very, very old prototype of the more recent ones used in Dundorma—much larger, and a lot less efficient for combat, only being able to load a single shot at a time while the Battlequarters variant could supposedly hold five each. Not to mention the Ran Fos one was basically useless against anything that wasn't actively big enough to siege a town, like a Lao Shan Lung, or one of those… long-legged crab things, whatever they were called. Ran Fos didn't see many monster attacks anyways, so other defensive measures had been constructed to handle smaller-scale threats. But, while the cannon lacked combat utility, the Guild recognized its effectiveness as a ferry between the four gates and promptly converted it. Corvus arrived just in time to scramble on board with a couple other officers and workers before the engineer threw the switch and the platform got moving.

What Corvus hated about the track cannon was that, despite having proper seats and safety belts, the thing moved so fast that he felt like he'd be thrown off at any second. Some of his Guild friends had said they actually  _enjoyed_ that sensation, though he couldn't fathom why. Then Isaac had once proposed making a track with a cart you sat in, that had a number of drops and loops and sharp turns and enough other shapes that Corvus felt sick just thinking about it. He liked to support his eccentric pal and all, but that was just too much for him.

Shaking off the queasiness he felt after disembarking, Corvus made his way to the floor his desk was on, dropping off his things and quickly compiling his report on the Byron. Once satisfied with the information he headed back towards Viper's office, stopping outside the door when he heard the captain already conversing with someone inside. His curiosity getting the better of him, Corvus slinked closer to the door to listen in, casually leaning his back against the frame to avoid drawing eyes.

"…other leads have been turning up dry. All I've found in this city is hearsay, rumors, tall tales, and copycats." Corvus recognized Demetri's voice, though the surveyor sounded quite grave and serious.

"I see… suppose it can't really be helped, but I still need you on this case. People in all three border towns have been terrified of this legend for centuries. Previous Knight Captains have just let it sit, said it's not their problem or that he hasn't struck in years, but until we get a conclusive report out there nobody will walk these streets without feeling tense. You're the best I've got, so I need you to keep at this. …And that's also why I'm temporarily assigning you to Captain Conrad in Mistwood starting next week."

"Sir?"

"That's where this whole business started. You're bound to pick up on some leads. It'll only be for a short while, so it shouldn't hurt the homelife too much either. Just compile what information about this guy you can find and report back to me as soon as you've got a clearer picture about our age-old problem."

"Understood. By your leave."

Corvus took a step out of the way as he heard Demetri turn and approach the door, the two exchanging a short look and a nod as the older surveyor walked past. His expression was focused and hard, distant even. He supposed it was just this job Viper had him working on. Certainly sounded interesting… The office now open, Corvus stepped inside, raising the folder up beside his head.

"Reporting in, boss. Lemme tell you, the Byron case has definitely taken a turn."

"Word's already reached us about the brawl… almost sounds like a superhero showdown took place there," Viper sighed, pushing himself up from his desk and walking over to a drawer he kept stashed full of ice crystals to use as a makeshift cooler.

"That's not too far off. Any of them mention a man-shaped dent in the ceiling?" Corvus asked while the captain pulled a bottle of water from the drawer, declining one offered to him with a wave of his hand.

"Not until just now. But don't keep me guessing—whatcha got for me?"

Corvus opened his mouth to speak, only for the rapping of knuckles on the doorframe behind him to cut him off. Both he and Viper turned their gazes to the entrance where a stern-looking man in a well-tailored and somewhat opulent indigo suit stood. His greyish-brown hair was combed back, showing off sharp cheekbones and a wide jaw. This combination left the older-looking man with slightly sunken cheeks, and his reddish-orange eyes seemed like tiny furnaces in their sockets. He certainly gave off an air of authority.

"Knight Captain Dente."

"Ah, if it isn't Governor Kilroy," Viper replied with a friendly smirk. "Can't say I was expecting a visit from you directly. Why the surprise? Shelby sick again?"

"No, no, I just felt like a walk might do me some good after a few hours of sitting and mediating dozens of domestic disputes," the Governor said with a direct and matter-of-fact tone. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything significant."

"Just a report from my newest surveyor here. We can pick that up anytime, though. Whattya need? I doubt there's no work attached to this playful little walk of yours."

"And you would be correct. There was a brawl in a tavern located in eastern Ran Fos. The place was left in shambles, and the four hunters involved were carried out on stretchers. Those four are currently facing charges from the owner for numerous counts of destruction of property, and the city itself for civil disobedience."

"Speak of the Deviljho—Corvus here was investigating a suspicious report on those same fellows."

"Pleasure to meet you, Governor," Corvus nodded, putting his hand out to shake the other man's.

Sort of like how 'surveyor' was a slightly-unclear indicator of Corvus' own job, 'governor' wasn't exactly clear either. Rather than preside over the whole city and pass laws and bills and such, the governor handled civil disputes between people or businesses of the city. Sort of like a judge in a courtroom, only a lot more important. Kilroy had something of a reputation for keeping on top of his work despite how much of it there was. He shook his hand firmly, glancing between the surveyor and Viper.

"I suppose my timing remains impeccable. I was informed of an investigation, and I came to collect any data gathered surrounding this incident you might have. It will be necessary for it to be open to all parties involved with this trial."

"There's going to be a trial? Already? It's been like… three hours at most."

"Yes, well, this is one of the more severe cases that's come up in recent weeks. Considering just how much damage this altercation caused I cannot exactly let anyone off with a simple reprimand or minor consolation to those affected, but I have enough work that I'd rather get this done sooner rather than later. I'm certain any findings pertaining to this investigation you were conducting would be most helpful, so I must ask that you turn it over to me."

"B-but—"

"That's how it is, eh? Guess I'm not surprised," Viper shrugged, taking a swig of water. "I'm sure they'll get a kick out of this whole thing. Corvus has fun writing his reports, and this case turned all sorts of crazy near the end."

"Really? I'm looking forwards to seeing it. Might I have that folder then, Surveyor?"

Corvus glanced down at the file in his hands, then back towards the captain with a look of confusion. Viper just gave him a short nod, gesturing for him to hand it over. Despite his own conflicted emotions the surveyor held the folder out, allowing Kilroy to pluck it from his fingers with only a little more resistance than Corvus probably should have put up. The governor raised an eyebrow briefly, but swiftly opened the folder and scanned the contents.

"Yes, this'll do quite nicely. Thank you for the fine work, Mister Corvus. This shall certainly expedite the proceedings." Corvus said nothing.

"Anything else you need, Kilroy?"

"Not from you, Knight Captain," the governor answered, sliding the folder into the bag he carried. "I still have to pay Miss Tethys and Mister Argon a visit to get their information about that caravan drag race incident… Some people just come up with the darndest ways to cause wanton destruction and commit public indecency. In any case, I really must be going. Have a good rest of the day."

"Likewise." Viper gave the man a short wave, and Kilroy gave a brief bow before turning and striding out of the room, shutting the door behind him as he left. "Great guy. Can't think of anyone who'd do better at that job than him. …Something the matter, little bud?"

The surveyor winced, realizing he'd been staring at the door angrily. He gritted his teeth and turned fully towards the captain.

"The hell? He can't just…  _steal_ my investigation like that!"

"Hate to break it to ya, but he can. It isn't  _your_ investigation anymore."

"That's absurd!"

"No, that's his job," Viper sighed, lowering himself back into his desk chair and planting both arms on the surface while giving Corvus a stern glare. "The only thing that's absurd here is you blowing your lid off over this. You should have known already that this is how these situations usually go. The second hunters get violent and make a mess out of other people's lives, the suspicious hunt reports are considered the icing on the cake of civil disobedience and destruction of property. It's the gradual ascending staircase of the law. Whatever's the greater offense is treated as a higher priority. Someone getting murdered is a _little_ more important than embezzling carves."

"But… I've been working this case for  _days_ now! Tracking the hunters down, following leads and rumors, compiling all this info… I only got stuck at all because three of the hunters were unconscious and hospitalized while the fourth was out of town! Now you're telling me  _I'm_ not the one who gets to see it through to the end? Some prissy suits in an interrogation room do?!"

"Pretty much. Happens all the time though, so it is what it is."

"That's—that's not fair at all!"

"News flash, little bud: that's life. Now instead of wasting time throwing a hissy fit over one simple incident, move on with your life and get cracking on another one of the five cases I've already assigned to you. Overreact on your own time, or I'll find someone else to work these investigations.  _Comprende_?"

Corvus felt his eye twitching with irritation, and with a frustrated grunt he threw his arms up and strode out of the office with a scowl. That had been  _his_ assignment! An Adler's job! Just taking it out of his hands like that was… it was absurd! Asinine! All that work, and for what? Someone  _else_ to have an easier time with  _their_ job? Something he probably wouldn't get any credit for? That was an  _insult_! That sunken-faced, evil-named son of a bitch…

He roughly seated himself at his desk and opened another case file, paying only half-attention to its contents while still fuming over what the captain had said. Life isn't fair… like he didn't know  _that_ better than most people! He'd dealt with enough unfairness already. Unfairness was what left his family without a mother… unfairness, and incompetence. His eyes trailed up to the small portrait of his mother's smiling face he kept on his desk now, and the surveyor let out a short sigh.

 _She'd probably tell me to just let it go… 'Artists see the whole picture, Corvus',_ he thought with a short frown. Corvus shook his head and took a few moments to simmer down, then looked back to the report with a more calm and attentive outlook. So the last job had gotten yanked out from under him. That was definitely a spot of bad luck… but he'd just have to make sure this next one didn't end up going the same way. This case seemed fairly simple—a hunter forced a quest giver into giving him more zenni, claiming some 'voucher' gave him the right to do so. Only strange thing was that the hunter actually reported his own transgression… like he hadn't known strong-arming an old merchant was illegal.

Weird.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: I promised ya'll that I'd remember!
> 
> Something I introduced in Frontier Lineage, a short comedy story I wrote, was the concept of Hunting Sense, which I decided to expand on more with Heritors. One of the more entertaining aspects I find with writing fics in the first place is experimenting with different abilities and powers. In The Master Corps, it was mostly things like 'super modes', and seeing as to how I've thoroughly beaten those into the ground and never want to make different powered-up states for every important character again, I decided on something that's kinda innate. People with Sense can use their abilities quite liberally, like Zeke did last chapter. Of course, unlocking Sense isn't very easy, but it's usually pretty worth the trouble.
> 
> I think I have the most fun writing Corvus as a fairly average person compared to the veritable titans that hunters are. I had similar enjoyment with the character of Trance back in TMC, but there's just something so endearing about the simpler characters among a cast of badasses. It makes world-building chapters like this fairly enjoyable too, since he tends to interact with a lot of hunters. Of course, he's got his own quirks and mannerisms too. That pride of his sure seems like it could lead to some trouble later, doesn't it?
> 
> I personally had a real laugh while writing the Brave/Valor thing. I started writing this story back when Double Cross hadn't been confirmed for the West, so I've had it in my draft notes that the style would be called 'Brave' for the longest time, and then bam, GenUlt outta nowhere with the localizations!
> 
> Anywho, that should about do it from me! Hopefully posting on a different day at a different time will help me reach more people. It's a little discouraging to see so few comments, if I'm being totally honest... but maybe it's just a case of slow-burn syndrome. In any case, please please please leave a review! I love interacting with my readers, so don't be shy about telling me what you liked or pointing out what you didn't like. Anything and everything helps me grow as a writer, and it definitely gives me the encouragement to keep at it.
> 
> Have a good one, faithful readers!


	6. Day Off

"Psst.  _Pssst."_

"Zzz… Snrk—muh?"

"WAKE UP!"

Corvus grunted in shock as a weight thumped down onto his chest, rousing him from his slumber. He grumbled and pushed himself upright, rubbing sleep from his eyes and stifling a yawn before his hands found their way to the object that slid into his lap. His eyelids snapped open as he recognized the feel of worn leather strips over an iron grip, and his eyes slowly trailed down towards the worn practice sword in his grasp.

"Oh no."

"Gooood morning, li'l bro! Ready for some drills?" Mila sang cheerfully, resting another practice sword over her shoulder. She was dressed in her casual wear, with her long blonde hair tied back into a ponytail. "I let you off the hook last time since it was storming, but today we've got clear skies, so no excuses!"

"When are the skies here ever 'clear'?" Corvus mumbled in response, twisting left and right to pop his back. His sister just gave him a pointed look, and with a short sigh he threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. A quick glance to the clock on the nightstand showed it wasn't even eight in the morning yet. He felt a moment of panic that left almost as soon as it arrived—Sunday was his day off, right. Everyone in the Guild got at least one day off per week. Of course, Corvus wasn't allowed the luxury of sleeping in with a sibling like Mila. She always insisted on dragging him out of bed at least once a week for this. He was just glad she was courteous enough to not do it the mornings he had work. "Best we normally get is cloudy with a chance of rain, rain, and more rain."

"Almost like we live in the  _city of rain!_ Go figure. C'mon bucko, up and at 'em!" she urged, ruffling his hair with a short laugh and stepping towards the door. "Get dressed and meet me out back in ten minutes!"

"Ugh… I'll be there in nine."

Wiping a hand down his face the surveyor quickly went about pulling an outfit together from the articles of clothing thrown about the room. He'd come home rather late the night before, and he'd stayed up even later. These most recent hunt reports were… perplexing to say the least, and he'd kept himself awake trying to make more sense of them all. No less than six reports had come in detailing a hunter or hunters that blatantly broke Guild carving and reward regulations, and who didn't even  _try_ to hide it. During the first couple reports he'd followed up on he just figured the hunters were ignorant louts that didn't read their Hunter's Notes… but more infractions kept coming in. The other surveyors were getting these reports as well—Dominic told him the day before that he had four separate reports all detailing the same kind of thing, and that was on the lower end of the spectrum. Ricard had  _ten._

One thing did remain consistent with the investigations, and that was the mention of these supposed 'vouchers' that apparently made the hunters think they were exempt from the law. A few hunters had brought theirs to the Guild, feeling suspicious about an event that seemingly just happened out of the blue... but as far as Corvus could tell, they didn't actually seem fake. They even bore a wax seal stamped with the Guild's shield insignia, and if there was one thing everyone knew it was that the Guild had some incredibly intricate and detailed seal presses. Almost needlessly so, in fact.

He shook his head. The whole situation reeked of fraud, but until he looked into the evidence more he'd just be left scratching his head in confusion.

After garbing himself in a simple tunic, blue pants, and his boots, Corvus hurried down the stairs with practice sword in hand. He cautiously peered into the kitchen, sighing in relief when he saw his father wasn't there—Wes did usually leave early on Sundays to pick up on the after-church crowds, didn't he? Regardless it saved him another bothersome conversation he didn't feel like having. He made his way across the kitchen towards the back door and stepped out into the wide alley space behind their house. It was about twenty-five feet wide, and two narrower alleys at the far left and near right corners extended a couple hundred feet up and down to connect to the streets, creating a relatively enclosed space that kept the sounds from echoing far and making people think a real fight was happening. Mila glanced up as he stepped out, shooting the surveyor a quick grin.

"Nine and a half, li'l bro."

"Yeah yeah… let's just get this started. I'd like to finish up before old man Hendricks starts screaming at us this time."

"Good thing most of the neighbors who care are at church then! Not like there's much else for old people to do anyways."

The siblings set out taking practice swings for several minutes, Mila's blade flashing through the air in a blur of steel while Corvus' moved at a markedly slower pace with a heavier  _whoosh._ The rounded tip of the practice blade scraped against the cobblestone underfoot as he took a particularly wide upwards swing, as though attempting to slam some invisible adversary up into the air. He let the blade's momentum carry his arm over himself, turning sharply as the blade  _clanged_ against the ground behind him. Mila snickered as she saw him do so, making him pause for a moment after standing back up.

"What?"

"Just wondering when you're going to quit goofing around! Nobody worth their salt would get hit by that.  _Way_ too slow, and you telegraph yourself  _so_ much! Not to mention leaving yourself wide open by putting your blade behind you at the start and end of the swing."

"Well, that's because it's a power swing. Meant to break through guards or knock a sucker flat."

"I might believe that if you weren't doing it  _constantly."_

"And you DON'T?"

"I only do crazy swings like that when I'm hunting. Human opponents are a lot different from giant animals, y'know! Can't exactly fight one the same way you fight the other," she explained, lightly slapping the flat of her practice sword against her palm. "That's why I always always  _always_ tell you sword fighting is about precision over power. The strongest blow is the one that lands! Keep your blade in front of you, make shorter movements with your arms, keep in control and use your wrist more. The sword should feel like a part of you, not a metal stick for you to slam around like a maniac!"

"But slamming it around like a maniac is  _fun,"_ he snarked, earning a short laugh from his sister. "We both know I can get away with it anyways, considering my trump card and all."

"Oh sure, the mighty trump card you  _can't_ rely on. Going Hyper leaves your arm stuck in a sling for what, days at the least? So while your trump card is buried in the deck, you'll have to learn to make do with the hand you're dealt! Kapeesh?"

"Alright, alright…"

"And practice more thrusts!"

"Thrusts are  _boring._  There's no flair to just sticking your arm out."

"I disagree, but more importantly you shouldn't be thinking about  _looking good_ during a fight."

"Are you  _really_ the one who should be lecturing me about looking good in battle? Falia tells some mighty fascinating stories about your needlessly dramatic displays out on the hunting grounds."

"I can get away with it because I don't  _think_ about it. I can't help that I'm just naturally awesome!" she said with a haughty smirk.

"Uh huh. Well, I suppose Sable  _is_  a thrusting weapon, so it can't hurt to use it accordingly."

"There ya go."

Another fifteen minutes passed as the two worked through steady sequences of swings, slashes, and stabs, with Mila once again insisting that he try and mimic some of her movements after several minutes. Once she was satisfied with his form, the worst part came—the usual sparring match.

The clanging of blades echoed up into the air of the wide alley as Corvus and Mila rapidly exchanged swings. Corvus let out a short huff as he retreated a few steps following the seventh exchange, twirling the dull practice sword as a drop of sweat ran down the side of his face. His sister gave him a bemused grin and began to casually stride to his left, a movement Corvus mirrored with a far greater amount of caution. He was already panting from the effort, while Mila hadn't even broken a sweat. Once they had nearly passed by one another, Corvus let out a fierce shout and swung his blade towards her side. Mila ducked low while simultaneously pushing her blade upwards, pushing Corvus' blade over herself while she deftly skirted under the swing, spun once, and lightly  _whapped_  the side of his calf with the flat of her blade, earning a short yelp from Corvus.

Though his leg stung underneath his boot, Corvus pressed the attack again, swiping downwards-diagonally towards the huntress. Mila reacted by leaning out of the way of the strike, and circling around to his side when he attempted to follow up from the other direction. Corvus turned sharply and swung at her again, his blade whooshing through the air, only to be met with emptiness when she ducked underneath the strike. His arm lingered above his head from the momentum of the previous swing, but after a second he swung the blade straight down towards her. The huntress once again easily dodged past the attack—she'd crouched there during the entire wind up as though she were anticipating it. The huntress leapt up and hopped to the side as Corvus' blade impacted the cobblestone with a sharp ring, and before the surveyor's eyes could follow her he felt two quick  _thwaps_ on either side of his chest. He stumbled back with a hiss, clutching at one of the spots with his free hand.

"Okay, that'll do it for today!" Mila said, clinking the tip of her practice sword on the ground next to her. "Don't lose your cool li'l bro, you start to get sloppy when you do that."

"I don't think it's so much me being sloppy… as it is you being impossible to hit," he grunted in reply, rubbing at the spot she had struck while lowering his sword arm and huffing to catch his breath. "Pretty sure these 'training sessions' stopped being useful… around the same time you learned how to phase in and out of reality."

"Psh! Lunar Star Slash is a  _little_ too intense for a sparring match—just like  _your_ Hyper Powers. Wouldn't do my big sister instinct any good to cut you to ribbons. While these sessions might not be the best way to show it, I actually enjoy having a little brother very much!"

"Yeah, yeah… tough love, I get it. Still don't see how these are helpful though."

"Maybe you don't see it, but I can tell you're getting better," she smiled, stepping forward and planting a hand on his head. "I know you can be a great sword fighter. You just gotta match all that power you have with a little more precision! ANd maybe get in a little more practice when you have the time," Mila continued, ruffling his hair again and making him grunt before lightly batting her hand away.

"Alright, point taken," he chuckled, holding the grip of the practice sword out towards her. "It wouldn't do an Adler any good to be less than great, so I suppose I'll follow your lead, Sis."

"Good thing I'm quite the lead to follow then!" she grinned, plucking the blade from his grasp. "Okay, get yourself cleaned up and we can go grab a bite to eat. My treat!"

"So long as it's a café we go to. I've been to enough taverns this week already."

"Sure! I could go for some tea anyways."

After the two got themselves ready the siblings set out side by side for the Cup of Jho. As the weather was still overcast (when wasn't it?) Corvus chose to wear one of his worn down spare coats over his usual attire. The left sleeve was brand new in comparison to the rest of the outfit though.

As for Mila, she had thrown on her loud burgundy longcoat, the back of which had a white bird embroidered with wings outstretched, as well as seven falling feathers trailing down the tails. That was easily her favorite article of clothing, due in no small part to the difficulty she went through to have it made by Dante.

Corvus had met the man once or twice—Dante was an odd fellow who only did business with people who 'earned' passwords he gave out as a quest reward, which despite immediately limiting his clientele to hunters, probably wouldn't hurt business too badly if he didn't have a tendency to only request the most needlessly challenging and annoying quests possible. The one he had sent Mila on required no fewer than ten of these weird electric slug things slain to curb out a massive surge in the population that was threatening the ecosystem and several villages nearby the Frozen Seaway, and as if that wasn't bad enough, a named Kushala Daora just  _happened_  to be in the area and completely escaped the Guild's notice. But, Mila had slain the required amount of thunder worms, and escaped her second encounter with the dreaded 'Tempest' unscathed.

All that trouble just for a flashy coat made by a white-haired smartass. Dante wasn't the only odd one.

"So, think you've had a good first week, Mister Surveyor?" Mila smirked, resting her umbrella over her shoulder. Unlike Corvus' preference for hooded coats, she avoided covering her hair up; she also saw a dual purpose in having a blade concealed within the shaft as well. Nobody could say that she didn't take the whole 'Blade Princess' thing seriously.

"I've had more successes than not… but what could you expect?" he laughed with a proud tone. "Viper's lucky to have me on the team. But… I will admit, these last couple reports have been puzzling."

"Oh? The cleverest surveyor in Ran Fos is  _puzzled?_ It  _must_ be an unsolvable case!"

"Ha ha  _ha_. These reports keep detailing hunters breaking reward and carving regulations, and each one I've confronted mentions some kinda voucher that entitles them to bonuses."

"Wait, you mean the kitchen skill vouchers?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's a Guild promotion for hunters. They started it earlier this week—almost every tavern in Ran Fos is in on it."

"A Guild promotion? That can't be the case. We've been getting swarmed with suspicious hunt reports because of these things. Every surveyor I've talked to has to deal with this mess. None of  _us_ have been told about a promotion, or anything of the sort."

"So… the Guild doesn't know about its own promotion then?"

"It's not a promotion!"

"Sounds an awful lot like a promotion to me," Mila shrugged as they rounded a corner and continued on towards the café, skirting through the only-moderately crowded streets with relative ease. "The seals are all pretty official-lookin' if you ask me."

"And I get that, really, but—wait. How do you even know all this?"

"Cuz I've been taking part in the promotion too? In case you didn't notice, badaboom, I'm a hunter." Corvus' eyed widened as the prospect of having to fine his own sister came to mind, though Mila kept talking. "'Course, I haven't actually  _used_ any of my vouchers though."

"You… you didn't? Why not?" Corvus asked, only to grin a moment later. "Aha, I think I get it. You  _knew_  something felt fishy about the whole thing, and you were holding onto the vouchers to hand off to me to look into it more."

" _Ehhh_ …I mean, sure! Yeah! Let's go with that."

"You completely forgot you had them."

"Forgot is  _such_ a strong word…" she grinned sheepishly, earning a roll of the eyes and a shake of the head from her brother.

"Every day I understand better why Falia carries spare equipment for you. Guess it's a good thing you have a habit of forgetfulness this time around, else this might've actually come around to bite you."

"I do not have a  _habit._ Some things just slip my mind is all. Kinda easy to do when I have the ability to tell you there's exactly forty-three—wait, forty- _four_ people on the road around us right now,  _and_  that there's a couple banging on the second floor of the house we just walked past!" A devilish grin split her lips as her eyes flicked up towards a window to the left. " _Niiice."_

"Sis," he sighed after a long pause between them, planting a hand on her shoulder, "you're the reason I don't bring girls home anymore."

"Oh get over it, it was one time."

"One time too many!"

Brother and sister continued along the grey streets of Ran Fos until they arrived at the café, and Mila left her umbrella-sword behind the counter with Rena. The Cup of Jho was fairly busy, which wasn't much of a surprise considering the hour, but they were able to find a seat without much trouble. Joann came to take their orders, and the two continued to converse while ignoring the occasional looks average civilians and a few hunters shot over to their table—more specifically, towards Mila. Corvus was positive there wasn't a single person in Ran Fos that didn't know who she was given her reputation, and given what Falia had said this extended well beyond just the rainy city. Plenty of renowned hunters had cult followings, and his sister was no different. People across the country knew her face and her name, just like the rest of the Four Faces and other noteworthy figures in the world of hunting. Falia jokingly referred to the huntress' as the 'Mila Fanclub', though that name wasn't very far off from the truth. Mila always enjoyed talking herself up to anyone dumb enough to believe they should try and do so themselves, and Corvus usually just tapped his fingers and waited for it to end. Thankfully it seemed like no one was stepping forwards today.

"…and Iggy and I both pull back since, y'know, the whole point was for Eli to show his stuff, and the Qurupeco was already worn ragged, so why not? He darts in, races up the side of the tree, jumps… and lands his face right into its snout while it was trying to call for help!" the huntress laughed, mimicking the story she was telling with little finger movements. "Then the bird starts honking like crazy and running around back and forth, Eli's panicking and yelling his face off  _right into its nose,_ we're all dying of laughter, and  _then_ can you guess what happened?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell—"

"A Royal Ludroth jumped out of the nearby pool and just  _bodyslams_ the Qurupeco! Poor thing deflated like a whoopie cushion, and it shot Elliot out of its snout hard enough that he flew over our heads and into a tree with that big ol' Snakebee nest, like  _BAM!"_ Corvus winced when Mila slammed a fist into her open palm. "So he's got spinning Kut-ku's overhead after that, but  _then_ the nest falls right on top of him, and the bees are  _obviously_ miffed that their house just came crashing down, so—"

"Gods above, what else did that poor kid go through on this hunt?" the surveyor groaned, shaking his head. "For that matter, how did he even  _pass_ his exam? Every story you tell me that involves this kid has him getting the shit kicked out of him at every turn."

"Language! And for the record, Elliot's not  _bad._ Just… not as good as he could be. Plenty of hunters are like that."

"Oh please, when  _Maki_ of all people says Eli makes failure look like an art form, something has to be going horribly wrong."

"Give him a break, he's trying his hardest! I think it's really charming."

"Heh. We'll see how  _charming_  it is when he gets himself killed. Just admit it, that guy is  _not_ cut out to be a hunter."

"I think he is," Mila remarked with a tilt of her head. "Elliot's a dreamer, and I know better than anyone that if you keep aiming high, you'll get there. He just needs a helping hand."

Corvus just shook his head and scoffed. Of course Mila had a point, even if he loathed to admit it. He still remembered long ago back when their mother was still alive, and before Mila had awakened her Aura Sense. She was sick with something practically every other day and could barely even walk down the stairs on her own. Their parents had to work tirelessly just to get all the medication she needed. She was about as weak as weak got. It was nearly impossible to believe that sickly child had turned into someone badass enough to go toe-to-toe with nature's biggest monstrosities and not even break a sweat in the process. Maybe she thought she saw a bit of that in Elliot too.

Regardless, Corvus thought he was a piss poor hunter and that Mila was wasting her time with a lovesick Slagtoth like him, but he knew he couldn't convince her who or what to waste her time on anyways.

Joann returned with their food after a few more minutes passed—a large plate of sausage and pancakes accompanied by a mug of coffee for Corvus, while Mila had a portion of egg, mixed berries, toast, and of course a cup of her favorite cinnamon sweet tea. She always insisted on eating healthy to maintain her figure… but that just meant more syrup for him to drown his breakfast in.

"So, what kinda work stories do ya got for me, anyways?" she asked, popping a berry into her mouth. "I'd like to hear it! I'm always the one telling you about my hunts after all. How about how you got slugged?'

"Oh, that? Can't promise it was quite as  _exciting_  as what you're used to. Asshole tried to swipe extra dash juice from a Royal Ludroth but let his knife slip by mistake, so he broke both sacks. Did a  _real_ good job pissing off the Enzo Brewery since they had a claim on the juice, and when I started to corner one of the guys he came out swinging. Got me once, but I gave back just as good as I got. Beat the snot outta him and his buddy, made sure they knew just who it was dispensing the law around here."

"That's my bro!" she grinned, lifting a hand for him to high-five her. He couldn't really tell if he felt guilty for so easily getting away with that fib, or if he should tell his sister that she was being gullible again. As their palms smacked, he decided that perhaps it would be best—and by 'best' he meant 'funnier'—to let her believe whatever he said. "So, illegal dash juice production, huh?"

"Actually it's not the production that's illegal, it's stealing the ingredients. People can brew up whatever they want at home, and so long as it isn't meant to blow up in the middle of a town or city, the Guild won't take issue with it. If they did, Alchemy school hunters like Isaac would  _not_ be able to do half of what they'd want. These guys took like eight hunts' worth. That's the problem."

"I see... I never got the deal with dash juice though. I know you and Dad  _love_ that stuff, but it just never does it for me."

"That's because you don't  _need_ extra energy. You probably aren't even human, Sis," Corvus teased, shoveling a fork-full of pancake into his mouth. "Anyone that can sprint three laps around the city and not be out of breath  _cannot_ be of this Earth."

"Or, it's because I wake up early to work out every day, I tussle with big ol' beasties every couple days, and I don't keep a massive stash of sweets under my bed. Tubby."

"Hey, at least my stash is  _tasteful_ , Miss 'I sleep on a collection of adult graphic novels'."

"Oh, you sneaky little butt! Well, what can I say. I like the art. The other content just happens to be  _fantastic_  for—"

"Sis! T.M.I."

"I wouldn't complain if you wanted to borrow one, y'know," she grinned, and at that moment Corvus realized he probably should have kept his mouth shut. Embarrassing Mila was about as likely as poogies were to fly. "I get hit on enough to know how guys your age can be. It's perfectly natural! And given your spotty-at-best record with flirting… well, I can't blame you for wanting an outlet."

"Okay, that's a low blow. Look, I don't want to read any of your—"

"Especially since Falia and I already might've, uh, 'borrowed' some of your gummies. Just a bag or ten."

"You  _ **WHAT?!**_ "

After finishing up their meal and leaving zenni to pay the bill Mila and Corvus departed the Cup of Jho, only the find that once more a steady drizzle had begun. The huntress unfurled her umbrella while Corvus pulled his beaked hood up and over his head, and they continued along towards whatever destination they had next… the precise topic of their next conversation.

"Yeah, old man Riversteel said he'd need another couple days with the upgrades before Homura would be ready for pick up," she sighed, placing her free hand on her hip. "But oh man, I cannot  _wait_ to see the sheen on that baby when she's ready!"

"Right… and which one was Homura again?"

"The longsword! Got the orange and black scale scabbard? Officially called a Centenarian Dagger? C'mon, I spent  _months_  getting enough Rathalos parts to make her!"

"…Doesn't ring a bell. But it's called a  _dagger?_ I thought longswords were like six feet long  _at least._ "

"It's a big dagger."

"Obviously."

"I can't believe you forgot her name though!"

"Can you really blame me? You've got enough swords to arm your own private militia."

Mila let out a sassy huff at his remark, shaking her head as they walked along in an aimless wander. Eventually they found themselves striding into the wide open central market space, where nearly a dozen caravans had parked into a series of segmented rings to allow customers ease of access to each one. The crowds here had swelled up considerably compared to the streets elsewhere—many hunters and civilians alike appreciated the chance to browse wares local merchants might not have, and trade tycoons often had exotic merchandise you couldn't obtain anywhere else in Maglea. Seeing all the caravans did bring a thought to the surveyor's mind.

"Say, Mila. Do you remember the pencils Mom liked to draw with?"

"Those pricy Yukumese ones? What about 'em?"

"Can you help me find some? I've been thinking about a drawing I'd like to start for a while now, and… well, it'd be nice to feel like she's guiding my hand for it."

"…Yeah, I can do that," she smiled, patting his shoulder before they strode into the market.

The death of their mother a decade prior had certainly left its mark on all of them. Their father had practically shut down for a while just to cope with the loss, and just as he shut down Mila stepped up as a caretaker for both of them, like a light in the dark. As for Corvus… Mila had always been especially close to their father, and in that same way he had been especially close to Sabrina. Even now he recalled when, as a young child, he shadowed her around the house, watched her turn a sheet of paper into another artistic wonder, inspired him to do great things with his mind. Young Mila had hardly been the shining beacon of inspiration she was now, so the one who had helped Corvus through his careful and withdrawn early life had been their mother. The reason he was the man he was now was because of all she had done for him. To put how important she had been to him to words was nigh-undoable. That she'd been taken so suddenly, so unfairly, just…

Corvus shook his head. Their mother was gone, and while he had accepted that reality he still cursed the circumstances, the failures of those who could have prevented it. But, he and Mila both carried something of their mother's now. For her, it was the blue blade Sapphire. For him, it was all the artistic talent and skill he had learned and developed, all the materials she had left him… and a drive to give back to others. In his own way, at least.

The siblings carried on with their search, looking left and right at the various wares contained within the carriages. It was a technological marvel, really, how these wagons could seemingly 'unfold' into merchant stalls in minutes. Were it not for the links between each segment, and the long wooden roofs constructed to keep the rain from pouring down onto the sellers and their merchandise, Corvus might have figured these could pass for genuine shops in another part of the world. Smiths worked on weapons while wyverians traded commodities with hunters and other merchants… some stores were even manned by Hybrids showing off their control over elemental magic. One garbed in pale, rubbery cloaks, with eyes covered by bandages and skin so pale he could see the veins underneath clearly, even made a gem shine with a bright electric blue hue just by holding it, earning some applause from a small crowd that was gathered around.

"Creepy…" he mumbled when they were well out of earshot, though Mila still sharply bumped him with her elbow and shot him a look.

"Was he doing anything wrong?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Exactly. Don't judge."

Corvus grumbled to himself, but otherwise held his tongue. He didn't have anything against Hybrids, per se… he certainly had no reason to dislike them. That didn't mean he wasn't nervous around them though. Being monster-turned-people with super strength and the ability to manipulate powerful elements was bad enough, but they were  _known_ to be very aggressive. Plenty of incidents out in the wild occurred when hunters had a run-in with one that wasn't feeling particularly neighborly… more often than not the hunters didn't come back from those run-ins. And sure, stereotyping was bad and all, but considering the occasional horror story of a normally-nice Hybrid lashing out when pushed a bit too far, he dreaded the thought of having to potentially follow up on an inconsistent hunt report submitted by one. If ordinary hunters sometimes came out swinging, what was the chance a Hybrid might try to roast him alive? Something about them made his arm twinge uncomfortably.

Almost in direct contrast, he knew Mila thought Hybrids weren't scary—far from it, actually. She thought they were  _cool._ They showed just how wild nature could be, she always said… though she also had far more experience with them than Corvus did. Their father had been close friends with a pair of Barioth Hybrid twins known as Frost and Snow back in his younger days, both of whom he called upon to help train Mila during her years as an apprentice. Snow was actually one of the nicest Hybrids Corvus had ever met, a sentiment most people shared; she was a vital part in the Hybrid equality movement, even moreso than some of the elder dragon Hybrids. Meanwhile Frost was… terrifying. The two of them could not have been more different. Yet, Mila had never once been anything less than thrilled to get to know Hybrids and befriend them, as was the case with Makiyuma. It was like she'd adopted a pet when she brought him back from the Misty Peaks. She always got a little huffy when someone badmouthed them for no reason.

Eventually the two happened upon a caravan with a merchant carrying art supplies, and Corvus found the pencils he'd been looking for. He still winced upon seeing the price; art was painful in its own ways. After dropping most of the zenni he had been carrying on them, though, he noticed that Mila had strayed off to the right to converse with a young woman seated nearby a non-collapsed 'living' carriage. She was rather short compared to his sister, likely several years younger, though her build suggested she was a hunter. She had silver eyes and shorter aqua blue hair (likely dyed) that she kept out of her face with a cloth headband. Mila glanced towards him as he stepped over, smiling broadly before wrapping an arm around his shoulders and quite literally pulling him into the conversation.

"So like I was saying, this is my little brother Corvus! He's something of an artist himself!"

"Yeah, I remember you mentioned him last time we met," the huntress replied, smiling lightly and turning her gaze towards him. "Your description was spot-on though! He's even got the funny little bird beak in his hair. It's a pleasure to finally meet though! I'm Infamy."

"What funny little…? I mean— _ahem._ The pleasure is all mine, Infa—" His initially flirty tone cut off, and he paused with a raised eyebrow. "Wait. Infamy? That's… that's your name? Not a nickname or something?"

"Nah, my real name's Cecilia, but that's boring compared to Infamy. Don't worry, I get asked that a lot. You should see the looks Whiskey and Rookie get."

"Ooh, are they around? And Nier? We have GOT to catch up over drinks! Last time was so much fun!"

"Oh, definitely! They're out looking for quests right now. I just thought it'd be a good time to doodle." It was then that Corvus noticed the sketch pad on her lap, the open page thoroughly covered with various scribbles and sketches of random passerby and whatnot. What he could see looked pretty good…

"Mind if I took a look? It's not often I meet a lovely lady with a talent for fine culture," he grinned, and while Infamy raised an eyebrow at him, she shrugged and held to pad out for him.

"Go right ahead. Just uh… don't look towards the back. That stuff isn't meant for public display."

"You sure? Lots of this looks really great, actually…" he muttered, taking the pad and slowly flipping through the pages while scanning the sketches. Many were of hunters or merchants or Felynes… and the attention to detail was something else. He could have sworn he had seen this style somewhere before. "What could be so bad about—"

Mila caught his wrist before he made it too far back though. "Maybe you should respect the lady's privacy,  _hmm_?" she insisted with a low tone and a…  _weird_ smile that convinced Corvus to hand the pad back a moment later without further question.

"Looks really good!" he laughed with a slightly awkward tone before composing himself. "I'd show you some of mine, but I left my bag at home. Maybe some other time? Over coffee, perhaps? Or a nice dinner for two?"

"Hmm… I don't think Nier would like that much," she frowned, glancing up in thought. "He gets jealous sometimes. I wouldn't mind taking a look sometime though! The caravan will be in Ran Fos for a week or so, so stop by any time!"

 _Curses. Guess I'll need another approach…_ "I'll definitely swing around when I get the chance."

"Awesome! Looking forward to it. Now I hate to sound like I'm shooing you both off, but I just realized its been like three hours since the others left," Infamy noted with concern, glancing at her watch as she closed her sketch pad. "I should probably go find them before someone's boot ends up somewhere boots probably shouldn't be. Oh! But before I forget…"

She gestured for them to wait a moment, then hurried into her carriage, emerging after a minute or two carrying a large sealed envelope. She handed it off to Mila, who thoughtfully frowned for a couple moments before her eyes lit up in realization. "Is this that 'thing' I commissioned?" Mila asked, lifting her eyebrows as though saying 'you know exactly what I'm talking about'. Infamy nodded, then waved to the both of them.

"See you two around!"

Corvus shot his sister a curious glance as Infamy scurried off to find her friends, but the huntress simply smiled and began to walk along, the envelope tucked under her arm.

"So… gonna tell me what you got there?"

"Nope! Buuut, if someone decides to try snooping around where they shouldn't be again, maybe they'll find out."

"What does that even—oh, dammit, Mila!  _Really_?!"

"Language!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Sorry this one's so late late, everyone! I'll be honest, I just completely forgot AO3 existed for about a week. I've also learned that apparently there's some kinda mess going on with fanfiction.net's profiles and Critics United (whom I've never even heard of before this whole mess started), but I'm not too worried about all that. My profile is still unaffected, so I'll keep on posting to my heart's content.
> 
> I had particular fun with this chapter because I got to develop both characters through the observations and comparisons drawn by only one of them. In having Corvus describe what Mila is like, it's possible to glean from his dialogue what he's like too. I thought this was an interesting way to highlight their similarities and differences, as well as continue developing backstory for both of them... and just to have some fun writing two siblings hanging out together. Family is nice like that.
> 
> We're also formally getting into the first arc of the story, the Kitchen Voucher arc! I always thought the idea of getting additional 'skills' from eating food was kinda silly, so I'm using our introductory arc to poke some fun at game mechanics. Nothing too serious. That'll come later!
> 
> Lastly, Infamy is an OC of Ming, the artist I've commissioned for all the character drawings lately. I included her character as an additional little 'thank you' for doing such great work. I didn't really write up the plot of Heritors to account for OCs in important roles, but if any of you want an OC to appear in my story, I think that it can be arranged. Just ask! But back to the topic at hand, Ming's also recently completed the commission for Falia! Just replace the /dot/s with periods and the link below should work just fine. Take a gander!
> 
> drive /dot/ google /dot/ com/open?id=1le7_JwTqPC_UWWUu_ovdtk53oEgJia2d
> 
> So, that does it for me! Let me know what you liked or disliked in the reviews, faithful reader! I don't need essays or anything, just a quick little comment will do.


	7. The Masked Hunter

Chapter 7: The Masked Hunter

Much of the next couple weeks was spent collecting evidence and collaborating with some of the other surveyors to narrow down the facts about this 'Felyne kitchen' matter. What initially seemed like a small and insignificant matter had quickly blown up into something much larger, so Viper had seen fit to assign the surveyors most involved with it already to figure it all out, while the rest were assigned to unrelated cases to avoid creating a build up. This meant Corvus, Dominic, and the cranky senior surveyor with a very impressive goatee, Ricard.

At first Corvus figured it would be a simple matter to determine that the vouchers were indeed false… but the official Guild seal each one bore made matters far more difficult. While a simple circle of wax hardly seemed like it would be a problem, as far as Corvus and the rest knew the only individuals who had possession of a wax seal press like the one used on the vouchers were Guildmasters and other high ranking governing officials, such as Viper.

After confirming that their captain was not in fact behind all of this (and considering the Dente family's love of food Corvus actually did consider the possibility) the surveyors made it their next objective to meet with the heads of each branch in Ran Fos' governing branches and determine if one was missing, or if one of them was behind it. Corvus had a hunch that it may have been Kilroy, but Ricard was the one who volunteered to follow up on him due to his rounds taking him towards the eastern end of the city where the governor's office was. Dom agreed to meet with Argos and Tethys in the western Guild gate due to their proximity to one another, which ultimately left Guildmaster Alfonz to Corvus. The wait list to meet with the Guildmaster was quite long, however, so he wasn't able to get an appointment until several days after his request. According to Viper, it was lucky the wait list wasn't  _weeks_ long.

That was how the surveyor found himself seated in a small room down the long hallway from the wyverian's office in the northern Guild gate. It felt more like a prison cell than anything. Normally he would have preferred to spend the aggravatingly long wait drawing, or perhaps flirting with the cute secretary gal he'd seen on the way in, but security protocol mandated that he leave his bag and weapons out with the guards, and since he was confined to the room during his wait, no flirting for him. Supposedly it was all some kind of screening process to help prevent assassinations… but all it did was irritate him. Regardless, with little else to do Corvus occupied his time by flipping through an issue of Hunter's Life. The main article read 'Crisis in Bherna: The danger of an all-cheese diet'.

It wasn't until he'd been seated for about forty-five minutes that a Guild Knight dressed in green opened the door to the room and motioned for him to follow. After a brief stretch Corvus followed along, striding through the long carpeted hallway spanning the upper levels of the gate, walls lined with portraits of previous Guildmasters. The art ranged from impressionistic to 'what the hell am I looking at' the older each one got, thoroughly cementing what Corvus had always believed about art—time always showed improvement. About a minute of walking later, Corvus arrived at the ornate wood-and-gold door leading into Alfonz's office.

"The Guildmaster is a busy man. Please try to keep things brief, surveyor."

"An hour of my time for five minutes of his? Sure. That's fair."

The knight grunted dryly at his sarcasm, but pushed the door in for Corvus to enter the office. Corvus let his eyes wander for a couple moments as the door closed behind him. Classy mahogany desk, various bookshelves stacked with tomes, ledgers, and other various books, glass casings with rare knick-knacks on display, a huge window overseeing the cityscape… the only thing Corvus hadn't assumed would be in the office was the rubbery Yian Kut-Ku stress toy set front and center on the desk before the wyverian seated there.

Guildmaster Alfonz was a taller member of his kind, standing over six feet tall at the very least. Despite being over half a century old he had a shockingly young appearance, especially when compared to the various smiths and merchants Corvus was used to seeing (and who made him feel tall by comparison). That was easily attributed to the wyverians having especially long lifespans though. Alfonz's long pale blonde hair was parted down the middle, letting the long strands frame his face while it was tied up neatly in the back. He had a pair of sharp and discerning light-grey eyes that fit the general features of his face rather nicely—sharp nose, sharp cheeks, sharp chin, and of course the characteristically long and sharp ears of wyverian kind. His attire was fitting of his station as Guildmaster; long robes of green with interlocking red and gold lines that interlinked to form a series of diamonds around his neck and down his shoulders onto either side of his chest, all over a silk tunic. The Guildmaster smiled welcomingly when their eyes met.

"Greetings, surveyor Corvus."

"Guildmaster," he greeted in return, bowing quickly before standing up straight and tall. He couldn't quite help glancing towards the Kut Ku on the man's desk, but he swiftly returned his attention to the wyverian.

"I do apologize for the length of your wait. I had another appointment that ran slightly longer than I had anticipated," Alfonz said, his tone light and in-control. "Knight Captain Viper informed me of a certain matter causing his branch no shortage of headaches lately. I take it you are here to see me about it?"

"Yes, and the longer it goes on the more apparent it becomes that this issue affects the entire Guild. I was hoping you might know something that could help us resolve this issue."

"Solving problems with the Guild happens to be my specialty. Please, sit and share."

Corvus took a seat opposite the Guildmaster's desk and began to recount every detail he had about the kitchen vouchers, presenting one to the Guildmaster as he spoke. Meanwhile, Alfonz's expression was attentive, unchanging, and otherwise impossible to read. Once Corvus had finished speaking, the wyverian folded his claw-like fingers and sat back in his seat, looking off towards the window overlooking Ran Fos.

"Quite the predicament indeed," he said after a short pause. "And you said Captain Viper had you and the rest of the surveyors cease collecting fines from the hunters for this?"

"Yes, at least until we have a better understanding of the situation. It wouldn't do the Guild any good to look like it's pulling a money scam on its own hunters. We… aren't pulling a scam, right?"

"Goodness, no. I would have personally signed a document and issued an official statement before doing something like this. The entire notion that we would allow 'skills' for eating particular food combinations in the first place is preposterous. Not that most hunters would pay attention to that," he chuckled before his expression stiffened. "Regardless, this does not bode well. The additional funds each tavern is bringing in from this must be circulating back to the ringleader's own pockets, so the longer this is allowed to continue the richer they get. As for who that ringleader could be… I haven't a clue."

"Not even a hunch?" Corvus asked with a raised eyebrow, tapping on the wax seal in the upper corner of the voucher. "This is stamp only used by officials in the Guild. None have turned up missing from what my partners have found, so wouldn't that implicate one of the Big Five?"

"Perhaps, but you'll find that matter rather easy to solve. If you would please avert your eyes for a moment?"

Though he gave Alfonz a confused look, Corvus did as he was asked, glancing back towards a display case next to the door. He heard the Guildmaster go through a couple drawers in his desk, sifting papers and flipping through folders… then there was a barely noticeable  _click,_ the drawers closed, and there was a soft tap. After a slight pause Corvus turned back around, seeing the Guildmaster's wax stamp seal beside the Kut-Ku toy.

"I much prefer to keep the particular location I stow it hidden to prevent someone from stealing it. I have the upmost faith in those who work underneath me, but... well, it pays to be cautious nonetheless."

"Er… with all due respect, I think anyone would guess it's a secret compartment in your desk."

"And based on what they hear, they would be wrong," the Guildmaster smirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. Corvus frowned curiously, but Alfonz's explanation remained vague. "We wyverians do have our little magic tricks. But I digress—please, try and fit the stamp over the seal on the voucher."

Corvus carefully picked up the stamp to observe it. I had a smooth, lacquered wooden grip and a polished golden head, the base of which had an intricately hewn reverse Guild insignia. With a shrug he attempted to fit the press over the wax seal… only to grunt in surprise when it didn't quite catch. It felt like it sort of fit, but it was too high up, almost like it would have required a bit more effort to force it down on the seal.

"I will share a little-known fact with you, Corvus. A peculiarity exists among the Guild seal presses," Alfonz elaborated, taking the seal from Corvus' hand and tracing his pointed fingernail through the etching. "Every single one across Maglea was crafted around the same time by the same smith using a very particular blend of metals to work in every last detail of the Guild's crest. This is not something replicated easily. However, the smith was a crafty old fellow who had the wherewithal to make every single seal unique. A tighter valley here, a sharper angle there… minute differences in each and every seal that set them all apart. While nearly impossible to tell with the naked eye, no two seals are completely alike."

"Then if yours and Captain Viper's don't match this seal, it has to belong to one of the other Five. Argos, Tethys… or  _Kilroy_." Corvus scowled at the man's name, though he paused after fuming for a couple moments.

_See the full picture, Corvus,_ his mother's voice echoed in his mind, and Corvus' expression shifted to a more contemplative look.

"Although… just because the seal might match doesn't mean the person that owns it was the same one who stamped these vouchers. It's not even a guarantee that the seal came from inside the city."

"While I will personally vouch for the credibility of my fellow branch heads, I believe it more likely than not that the seal came from Ran Fos," Alfonz mused. "The Guildmasters correspond frequently, and any official seal going missing would have surely reached my ears almost immediately after it was discovered. I haven't heard any tell of this false promotion taking place in any other region of Maglea either."

"Interesting… I suppose we don't have as many veterans as the bigger towns like Dundorma either, so if the goal was to aggravate them and slander the Guild, this isn't the place to do it. Which realistically means the ringleader started here, out of convenience… and the goal is just to make money."

"Not a bad deduction, Corvus, though time will tell if it holds true. For now, I trust that information will suffice?"

"Yeah, it was really helpful actually… none of my partners mentioned anything about the seals being different," the surveyor said, setting the seal down beside the Kut Ku toy.

"That is because I never told any of the other branch heads. I do trust them all greatly, but given the tragedy of a quarter-century past, one can never be too careful in a position such as mine."

"Wait, then… why tell me?"

"Three very simple reasons," Alfonz began, moving his hand towards the stamp. At first Corvus thought he was going to pick it up, but he instead grabbed the Kut Ku toy beside it. "First, this is a matter of great importance, so withholding that information would do more harm than good. Second, I know your sister quite well and have been keeping a close eye on her progress as a huntress ever since your family moved to Ran Fos. She earned my faith and respect, hence why I was one of the three Guildmasters who recommended her for high rank. As such, I do believe I can trust her brother with a small secret. Lastly… if rumors begin to circulate, I will know precisely where—and with whom—they began."

The Guildmaster squeezed the toy to emphasize that point, making its head bulge while emitting a long, high-pitched squeak.

"I-I see… smart," Corvus muttered after clearing his throat, keeping his eye on the toy as Alfonz set it down and picked up the stamp in its place. "No reason to worry though, I can keep a tight lip. You can count on me, sir. Adlers always get the job done."

"Do they now? I suppose time will tell," the Guildmaster smiled. "If that is all though, I really must get back to my work. Once I have made sure these wayward funds aren't being funneled through Guild channels, I will issue an official statement to prevent any other hunters from being caught up in this scam."

"Of course. Thank you for your assistance, Guildmaster."

Corvus stood and bowed quickly, then made his way out of the office. The Guild Knight escorted him back to the stairs, and the surveyor reclaimed his belongings before heading out onto the streets. A steady drizzle from the dark early-evening overcast greeted him. It was the kind of drowsy weather that made a guy want to yawn… or maybe he just needed a coffee. He could get the details of what he learned to Dominic and Ricard tomorrow—for now, he just wanted to clock out and take a long-deserved break. This food voucher thing had been far more draining than any of them would have thought… but Alfonz's information would definitely help them narrow down where to look for a ringleader, and how best to put a stop to it.

The surveyor hailed a taxi carriage to take him back to the southern end of the city, knowing it was either this, walking, or another dreadful track cannon ride. His eyes idly drifted across the passerbys on the streets, the occasional hunters coming back from or embarking on another quest. One comment the Guildmaster made really stuck with him, for some reason.  _Not that most hunters would pay attention to that._ Thinking on it, he realized that jest was strikingly true. A lot of hunters he had spoken with in the last few weeks just assumed the 'promotion' was legitimate and didn't even check with local Guild authority to verify it. Even Mila had gotten duped, though admittedly that wasn't particularly difficult to do.

The fact that this voucher issue even got to the point it was at was testament to that peculiarity. Didn't it even seem odd to them in the slightest? What other things did hunters just assume were true, and thus didn't question? That hoax about abilities tied to the armor they wore, perhaps? Isaac had told him a few horror stories of comrades who thought potions could actually completely repair damage done to the body, only for them to die of internal bleeding later. The fact that such idiotic mistakes could be fatal was… disconcerting. There was a reason he didn't put much stock into those charms Mila liked so much.

He blinked back to attention when the taxi wagon came to a halt, having been hailed by a hunter in viridian scale and metal plate armor with high metal face guards mounted on the shoulders, ammo straps criss-crossing his chest and waist, draping green faulds with red and brown patterns that looked like some sort of wing membrane, and a really, REALLY big gun strapped to his back. A high collar and a green cap with a pair of goggles mostly obscured his face, though after taking a seat he pulled the collar down.

"And how are you doing, my young friend?" the man asked. Corvus lifted an eyebrow at him, only to eventually recognize the man as that strange fellow he had seen weeks ago at the Cup of Jho.

"Uh… Mercutio, right?"

"The one and only! Or, well, I suppose that could be a matter of perspective. I tend to jump in and out of places so often I once convinced a man that I alone was no fewer than eight identical siblings, three of whom were women! Ah, sweet memories…"

"…Right…"

He took it back. 'Strange' really didn't seem like it was enough of a descriptor for this guy.

"Anyways, what are you up to?" Corvus inquired with a shake of his head.

"Oh, just a little of this and a little of that. Until the coming storm hits I'd just like to keep my hands busy."

"Are we supposed to be getting a big storm soon?"

"Oh,  _absolutely_! As for when exactly, soon enough. You know how finicky the weather can be—Mother Nature must be bipolar," the gunner chuckled with a shake of his head. "I have heard tell that the most powerful of deluges from Ran Fos' skies are nothing short of majestic when viewed from a distance. Like a shower curtain of water, they say! Though that would completely eliminate the point of a shower curtain in the first place when you put more than three seconds of thought into it. To which I say, begone, thought!"

"Did you just... nevermind. Can't really say I've ever thought they were cool, but whatever floats your boat."

"Oh, my boat is quite buoyant, I assure you! Or it  _was,_  up until the gunpowder detonated and launched two tons of fish skywards. And  _that_ was my first successful Plesioth hunt! But I'm getting off track, aren't I? I have a proposition for you, my friend. You see, I—"

"Wait wait, back up. So you saw a guy wearing more or less the exact same outfit as every other surveyor in the city, with a hood up no less, and you just assumed it was me."

"Ah! If you must know it was actually your boots," Mercutio said, pointing down at his footwear. "The peculiar three side buckles are completely unique! Not a single other person in the city has that same pair—and believe me, I do a  _lot_ of people watching. I've always found the ones with standout footwear to be worth the most interest."

"Uh huh… So what did you want to ask, again?"

"Mm? Oh yes! I am a man who knows things. More than that, I am a man who  _wants_ to know as many things as possible! So, I was wondering if we might make a deal—knowledge for knowledge. What do you say?"

"Don't suppose I see any harm in that… depending on what exactly you mean," Corvus replied, his tone suspicious. "I can't share any Guild secrets if that's what you're asking."

"Pshaw," Mercutio scoffed with a flamboyant wave of his hand, "if I wanted Guild secrets, I wouldn't just  _ask_  a surveyor! No, I'm more curious about you and your sister. Scions of the legendary Adler name! For two generations straight your family has been slaying terrible beasts and stopping catastrophes… and who knows how many generations back your ancestors were doing so as well! They  _were_  doing so as well, yes?"

" _Ohhh_  yeah. Trust me, my family has been a blessing on this world whether the world knew it or not," the surveyor grinned. Mercutio laughed cheerfully, clapping his hands twice in amusement leaning in closer.

"Excellent, excellent! Given the legacy, it stands to reason a pursuer of knowledge would want to know about the heritors of such a name, yes? After all, Mila is a huntress of great renown, much like the other Faces—they all have my attention currently, as it were. As for you, Corvus, you are one of the youngest surveyors in Ran Fos' recent history, with a fairly impressive accomplishment under your belt already. Is it true that you suplexed one of those Ludroths, by the way?"

"Well…" Corvus glanced towards his left arm, a prideful smirk tugging at his lips, though he refrained from mentioning Buster for the time being. "Ah, who am I kidding. It was basically a suplex."

"Now you're just piquing my interest further! So, I propose a trade—if you agree to share some more about your family with me, then I in turn shall provide you with any information that you may ask... with some limitations, of course. You will still find me reliable. My mental troves of information are as extensive as all the gold in the fabled caverns of El Dorado!"

"Really now? Let's test that then… what's the secret of the Guild seal press?" he asked with a cocky smile.

"Oh, that's an easy one! The wyverian smith Borsuth—commonly known as Bors, uncommonly known as 'Aptonoth Defiler'—made them about two centuries ago with a complex mixture of fucium, dragonite, machalite, isisium, and many other metals that would take much too long to state for a brief summary. He made each by hand using the Tiffany Process—so named for one of the Aptonoth he defiled, also rather unknown and for  _very_  good reason—and each one was so similar in design detail that most assumed they were mass produced. But, they were in fact not, and each is just different enough that they cannot be mistaken for one another. They're all perfectly capable of being utilized for many different purposes too! One was used by Guildmaster Jesuis Monte of Val Habar a century and a half ago in the Battle of Broken Kneecaps to, well, break kneecaps, and Guildmaster Marica Torfeld of the southern islands once infamously used hers as a—"

"Okayokayokay, I think I get the picture,' Corvus hissed, glancing towards the carriage driver. It was possible that the rain and clattering of the wheels along with all the traffic had drowned their conversation out, but with the Guildmaster's warning fresh in his mind, he didn't need that rumor spreading… but how did Mercutio even know that? He thought Alfonz said the thing with the seal presses wasn't well-known! Maybe it would be smart to keep an eye on this guy…

"As you can see, I am rather well-informed. SO! Perhaps we can have a deal?" the hunter proposed, putting his hand out to shake.

"…For the time being, sure," Corvus agreed, taking Mercutio's hand and firmly shaking with him.

"Fantastic! I do look forward to seeing what we can learn from one another in the future, my friend! But for the time being I do have a certain matter to attend to involving the oddly-attractive aunt of a diabetic hunter named Gary, so I must be off! If I have need of you, I shall find you. If you have need of my services, I'm always closer than you'd expect, but often farther than you'd hope."

"That doesn't really inspire confidence… but before you take off, I have one question."

"Is it quick?"

"Probably. You said you were interested in the Four Faces… why?"

"Simple enough. Each Face is a mystery in their own right, and I do oh so despise unsolved mysteries. Zeke, Lowell, Mila, Alastor…  _especially_ Alastor! In all honesty his is the mystery that intrigues me the most, perhaps because I feel it will take the most time and effort to unravel. But I am nothing if not a patient man! Now then, if you'll excuse me…"

Mercutio stood and bowed, then leapt off the side of the taxi without even asking the driver to slow down, leaving Corvus to balk in shock. He leaned over the side after the man, but the hunter had already disappeared from sight.

"Hey! You left me with your fare, you asshole!"

"Check your back-left pocket!" he barely heard over the noise of the streets. He raised an eyebrow when he felt a number of coins there—odd, considering he always had his wallet in the right.

"How the hell did he…? I was  _sitting down!"_

* * *

A few rocks tumbled down a steep slope leading into a large cavern on one of the many islands off of Maglea's southern coast. Many of these islands shared climate and ecosystem with Moga Woods some hundred miles to the west… which left most teeming with danger and with few inhabitants living in small seaside settlements that existed as little more than fishing villages and trading posts. It was somewhat late into the evening, a deep orange light filtering into the cavern from a massive split in the far wall. One could see the vast ocean outside, though the seawater funneled into the cavern as well, submerging half of the area and leaving only a hundred-yard long plateau to stand on, about twenty feet above the water's surface. The space was mostly flat save for a few short slopes and ledges here and there, a raised platform of stone to the left of the tunnel's mouth, and a steeper 'step' that fed into a winding cave that could take one up the mountain in the island's center were they to follow it.

Following that path was the last thing on Alastor's mind as he slid down into the cavern after those smaller rocks that rolled ahead of him, pushing himself up and racing towards the center of the area. He was a broad and sturdy man that stood an inch over six feet in height, garbed almost entirely in crimson Rathalos armor with a matching Halberion Blade stuck to his back with a large magnet. His gear was different from the norm, though—it had been fashioned in the like of the 'R' series of armor sets that incorporated parts from so-called Hyper monsters. The segments of red scale plating and black spikes were offset by occasional points of gleaming silver metal, most prominently the metal 'track' on his upper and lower right arm that his shield stuck to when in use, as well as the protective plate backed with black crystal covering the upper half of his face, which had a series of vertical strips cut into the metal for him to see through without showing what lay underneath. He wore no other headgear, though, revealing his long scarlet hair that parted down the middle and hung low over the front of the mask, while some particular length hung down the left side of his head and rested on his shoulder and chest. The back was long enough to hang down to the middle of his back, though he kept those strands tied back with a length of green cloth. What features of his face could be seen were quite fair, sharp and handsome as he'd been told time and time again.

The hunter had barely made it fifty feet into the cavern when a large teal-furred fanged wyvern barreled down the slope after him, crashing through a low hanging stalactite with a short yelp of shock. Alastor paused and turned as he stepped up onto a short ledge to survey the creature. Nearly twenty yards in length and boasting a powerful quadrupedal body streaked with tan bone-like protrusions that jutted up and out, the Zinogre's body was wreathed in a pulsating blue light as lightning danced across its frame. It shook bits of stone from its face almost nonchalantly before focusing its killer electric-blue eyes on the hunter, growling menacingly and beginning to advance after him. A pair of fulgurbugs detached from its back and rocketed towards the space just over the entrance, exploding in powerful bursts of lighting element that collapsed a section of rock across the entrance. Not that it would seriously inhibit escape, but it was enough of a blockade to do its job.

With a savage howl the Zinogre charged towards him, bolts of lightning trailing off its body as fulgurbugs took to the air around it. The hunter let out a low breath, reaching his left hand back for the grip of his sword and widening his stance slightly so that part of his foot hung over the side of the raised slab he stood upon. The Zinogre cleared the gap in two powerful bounds, heating the air with its electricity, though he refused to budge even when he thought he could see the blood of the Aptonoth he'd seen it devour a short time before glinting off its teeth, and then it pounced, claws outstretched as it bore down on him.

Just as the Zinogre leapt for him, Alastor pushed forwards and off the ledge, ducking low and turning about as he turned and drew his sword. The massive falchion blazed to life as it left the shield still attached to the hunter's back, and he hit the ground in a long slide on the massive plate while slashing the weapon upwards, dragging the searing edge along the length of the fanged wyvern's underbelly and tail as it soared past. It roared as the flames bit at the long gash, hitting the ground on its shoulder but quickly rolling around onto all fours while Alastor continued to skid back, turning and shifting hard enough to pop himself up into the air with a quick flip. While in the air he shifted his right arm back for the shield, catching the magnetized plate with the track on his gauntlet and pulling it into position on his arm just before he landed, stabbing the spiked bottom deep into the stone.

He immediately felt two more fulgurbugs slam into the shield, bursting into bright blue flashes before disappearing entirely. He pushed up and yanked the shield free from the ground while the Zinogre began to circle to his left. The Wrathful Thunder, the locals called this one… it'd been a plague on the fishing village of Yuma for a number of months now, taking down hunter after hunter with its ferocious tenacity and unnaturally adept control over its fulgurbugs, which he'd previously observed it using in ways other members of its species weren't capable of doing. It didn't take much to tell this monster was almost too used to dealing with hunters based on all the weapon scars crossing its body… though many were split by freshly cauterized gashes caused by Alastor's own weapon during their scraps across the island for the last half hour before they ended up here, just as Alastor had been planning.

Admittedly it was a losing battle from the start—his armor was dinged and dented in several places, cracked and gashed in others, one of his ribs was probably cracked, and small arcs of electricity danced across his armor, signifying thunderblight. But, if everything went according to plan, the threat of being outperformed by Thunder wouldn't be an issue for him much longer.

"Well," he said with a deep-yet-soft and in-control tone, before practically spitting out the next two words as a challenge, " _come then_."

Thunder's response was to leap towards him again, roaring as it brought its massive paw down on the ground the hunter occupied a moment before throwing himself aside. A trio of lightning bolts erupted up and outwards from the point of impact, one barely grazing past the hunter as he rolled to his feet and shot towards the Zinogre, swinging the blazing blade down at its side while it recovered. He managed another swing after that, buffeting the monster's side with fire element, but the beast lifted itself back onto its hind quarters when he turned and attempted to deliver a powerful horizontal sweep. His shield already in position to guard, the Zinogre slammed its horns into the red scale plating on his arm, causing a burst of the energy stored within the weapon to explode outwards as the hunter was shoved back.

The burst didn't seem to faze the monster much, though. The Wrathful Thunder instead turned and flipped back in an attempt to slam its tail down on the hunter, though Alastor had recovered enough to dive out of the way; the very air around the tail seemed to shake, it had struck the floor so powerfully. Using the spikes on his shield as a brake, Alastor dragged himself to a stop and again darted forwards, taking a wide sweep at the Zinogre's head when it turned to face him. The swing managed to clip the towering monster's horn, and Alastor used the momentum of that attack to pull the blade around and take another swipe, only for the Wrathful Thunder to juke its head back with a snarl. It then shoved its head forwards in an attempt to bite down on him, a strike Alastor barely managed to get his shield up in time to block. Undeterred, the creature pressed him, slamming against his shield repeatedly and pushing him back yard by yard.

Eventually the hunter managed to throw his arm out to the side to shove the monster's head off. Alastor then took a step forwards and slashed the blazing sword up in a powerful arc, carving a burned streak through the monster's hide. He attempted a follow-up strike aimed for the beast's head again, but the Wrathful Thunder quickly shoved one of its plated, spiked paws forwards, causing the blade to harmlessly bounce off the hardened carapace with hardly a scratch. The creature let out a low, guttural chuckle when he pulled the blade back and attempted two more swings, the second being blocked as easily as the first while the Zinogre managed to actually catch the third within its claws.

The hunter grunted in shock as he found the blade locked into place, but rather than attempt to wrench it free he raised his shield over his head to keep the fanged wyvern's jaws from snapping down on him. Once, twice, thrice it tried to crush him under the plate, but as it wound up for a fourth attempt Alastor clenched his fist and shifted his arm, causing the shield to rotate ninety-degrees so that the bottom spike ran parallel to his forearm.

"Enough of that!" he roared, punching the shield at his quarry. The shield snapped forwards along the track on his arm, extending nearly a full yard forwards to punch directly into the Zinogre's shoulder with a small burst of energy. This surprise strike was enough to make the beast howl in pain, stumbling back a step and releasing the hunter's weapon to put distance between it and him.

As it did so Alastor shoved his sword into the shield, twisting the handle while he pulled the shield from the magnetic track on his arm. The entire plate swiveled over and extended upwards with mechanical clanking and whirring while the grip on the sword telescoped down, taking the form of a massive spiked axe with a two-handed grip. He revved the handle twice, causing the head to briefly flare to life with red and orange energy, coating the blade with the power contained in the phials.

Roaring from the effort, Alastor charged forwards with the heavy axe head scraping noisily through the stone behind him, hefting the weapon into a powerful vertical drop aimed squarely for the Zinogre's head. The beast shook its head free in time to see the attack coming, though, just barely pulling itself out of the way before the blade slammed into the ground before it with a powerful burst that split a two-foot-long crack through the stone. Undeterred, Alastor kept moving forwards and rolled over the weapon, yanking the blade free with his own weight and whipping it around in a wide horizontal sweep. This blow struck true, carving a heavy gash into the Wrathful Thunder's upper arm and forcing it back a couple paces with a howl of pain.

He then rushed ahead once more, hefting his axe to swing again, only for the Zinogre to surprise him by growling sharply and leaping back in a wide rotation, slamming the end of its tail into his chest and knocking him a short distance away while retreating about twenty yards itself. Alastor righted himself quickly as the fanged wyvern howled and prepared to charge him again, an array of eight fulgurbugs taking flight around it and glowing intensely. He snarled and morphed his charge blade back into its sword and shield form, raising the defensive plate as the bugs launched at him like rapid fire bowgun shots. Each crashed against his shield with a flash of electricity, though the impact had amounted to little more than slight jarring in his arm, despite the electricity prickling at his arm through the Rathalos material. As he lowered his shield, though, he found that the Wrathful Thunder was no longer standing across the space from him.

His gaze quickly snapped up and to the right as he heard a vicious growl—the Zinogre had leapt up and off the wall in an attempt to get the drop on him! Alastor swiftly ducked and threw himself aside, lifting his shield just before the beast struck the floor. The resulting shockwave of lightning element sent him skidding back several yards with a frustrated grunt, though when he looked ahead he found that the spot the Zinogre had struck was now a deep splinter of charred stone.

Its eyes were on him in a moment, though, and charging up more lighting into its paws the Wrathful Thunder lunged towards him, slamming its charged appendages into the stone after him while Alastor hurriedly got out of the way. Each slam broke cracks into the stone, launching arcs of lighting every which way as the smashes got faster and faster and Alastor eventually had to turn and block one. The sheer force behind the impact lifted him off his feet and sent him flying back almost a dozen yards, though he hit the ground in a crouch and halted himself by striking his shield into the floor. The beast snarled at him as he recovered, again 'chuckling' in a low growl when he fully pushed himself up.

"Don't get cocky, pup," he retorted, shaking the dizziness from his visions while slamming his sword back into the shield and charging the energy stored in the blade into the shield's inner mechanisms. As he did so, though, the beast let out a howl into the air while the lightning aura around itself seemed to pulsate outwards in a series of waves. He'd seen the beast do this once before while tracking it, when Thunder had been dueling with a Najarala over territory in the forest. It was about to pounce and discharge a surge of lightning into the entire area. Based on the devastation that attack had wrought—completely leveling the trees in a thirty-yard radius, zapping a great number beyond that quite thoroughly, and reducing the fifty-yard-long snake to a charred husk—Alastor wasn't too keen on letting it happen at all.

He hefted the weapon behind him as though preparing to shift into axe mode. Only, rather than completely shift, he merely disengaged the lock mechanism holding the axe head to the sword. He then sharply revved the handle in the opposite direction, making the shield open up and begin hissing, the energy stored within rapidly causing the axe head to spin, and clutching the grip of the weapon, Alastor turned and swung with a powerful shout right as the Zinogre finished charging and leapt up into the air.

The shield detached from the blade at the apex of his swing, launching into the air like a glowing red and orange frisbee covered in spikes and filled with explosive, volatile energy. The Zinogre's eyes widened in shock when it recognized the projectile headed its way, but it had already committed to its jump. Unable to dodge, the shield slammed directly into the Wrathful Thunder's side, causing the two halves to collapse into the middle and release all of the phial energy stored in the shield directly into the monster's chest, emitting a huge eruption of flames. At the same time the blow knocked the charge clean out of the Zinogre's fur, creating a spectacle of blue bolts and red flames that resounded throughout the cavern with a deafening, echoing  _thoom._

A billowing cloud of smoke erupted outwards as well, from which the Zinogre's body crashed onto the stone near where it had pushed off from. Alastor's shield came careening back his way as well, though the hunter simply stepped to the side and raised his arm, letting the magnet drag the plate into position on his arm once again.

As powerful as that blast had been, though, the Wrathful Thunder wasn't nearly defeated. He glanced towards the creature as it shook its head and pushed up, blood matting its fur while streaks of seared flesh were visible across its side. It glared spitefully at the hunter while fulgurbugs lifted off into the air around it, glowing intensely as they began to help the beast build up its lightning aura again.

Alastor decided it would be for the best to let it charge up for now… it offered him the chance to catch his breath and prepare himself as well. The hunter drove the tip of his blazing sword into the ground before him, then sharply revved the handle. A burst of fire element erupted into the floor and shuddered the blade—several more twists of the handle and the phial on the back of the sword was glowing a dangerous red color, and the ground before him was thoroughly seared. He then shoved the sword back into its shield and transferred the energy to the shield, though rather than draw it again he allowed the blade to remain in there for a short time and 'bask' in the transferring energy.

While it did so he stooped low and hefted a fist-sized rock from the ground, briefly glancing up towards the stalactites all over the ceiling. Several in particular that hung over the water had been cracked and worn by time… and had small kegs of gunpowder tied to their thin bases he'd set their previously, primed and ready to detonate if they were so much as kicked.

Not hesitating a moment, Alastor drew his arm back and hurled the stone up towards one of the stalactites, much to the Wrathful Thunder's confusion. Its eyes followed the rock up until it stuck a keg and caused it to explode, triggering a chain reaction that blasted the rest of the kegs. The stones fractured, dropping the massive rock fragments… directly into the pool of seawater, kicking up a huge splash of water that only barely managed to actually land on the platform itself. Certainly nowhere near the Zinogre. The beast even seemed to pause and look towards him, and Alastor was pretty sure that if it could raise an eyebrow, it would have.

"All according to my master plan," he assured with a lofty, mocking tone, clinking a finger against his metal mask. "I'd be terrified if I were you. Also far less intelligent, and not to mention a mangy, over-sized, bug-ridden mutt… but we don't all win the lottery now, do we?"

Taking his words as the insults he intended them as, the Wrathful Thunder roared skywards, its spikes jutting up once more while tendrils of lighting wrapped around its body, filling the cavern with an intense electric blue glow. Their host now charged, the fulgurbugs began to swarm at the hunter, flying at him in rapid succession with little rhyme or reason. Alastor quickly began to juke left and right while charging the monster through the storm of lightning charged bugs, using his large shield to ward away the ones he couldn't completely avoid. The ones that missed didn't simply crash and burst, though; a quick glance over his shoulder revealed that they had indeed learned to veer back around and home in on their target.

Despite this Alastor continued his charge unabated, turning about and shifting his shield onto this back just before the first of the bugs could reach him. The shield protecting his back from the bugs' assault like a turtle shell, the scarlet-haired hunter yanked the sword free from its place—having bathed in the phial energy, the edge now glowed with an intense yellow and orange light, almost like it had just come out of a forge of pure wyvernfire. With both hands on the hilt he rushed the Wrathful Thunder, darting under its attempt to bite him and slashing the charge blade across its chest twice more, intense flames streaking after the blade as it seared through the air. The sensation of the blade cleaving through fur and flesh was accompanied not just by the burst of fire element, but also the concussive pop of the phial energy coating the weapon, all of which combined made the beast push itself back a step before attempting another attack. The beast lifted its paw and swung it towards the hunter, only for him to leap into the air with a dexterous corkscrew flip and slash his blade along its arm. The whole time this was occurring the fulgurbugs continued to slam uselessly into the plating across his back, or miss their mark and instead slam into the Zinogre itself, though causing even less harm to it than they did to him.

The hunter continued his assault as the storm of fulgurbugs at last died out, whipping his shield back into position while taking a couple more swipes at the Wrathful Thunder. The beast had grown far more cautious now and opted to keep out of the reach of his sword, slowly circling around to his right while doing so. A quick glance back showed why—it was attempting to trap him against the edge of the plateau, over the drop into the sea below.

Seeing his attention momentarily shift, the Zinogre charged forwards and slammed it paw down at the hunter. Though he leapt back and raised his shield, avoiding being crushed underneath, the shockwave did again throw him back several yards and leave him skidding to the edge of the platform with a pained gasp. The thunder element that managed to get around his shield easily penetrated his Rathalos armor and shocked him thoroughly, leaving him feeling dazed and unsteady. Seeing the hunter now cornered, though, the Wrathful Thunder began to menacingly stalk towards him while he began to recover, hefting his blade towards the beast and taking a wary step back.

Again, the hunter spared a short glance over his shoulder at the pool of water behind him. The harsh glow of the setting sun outside reflecting off the pool made it nearly impossible to make out any shapes beneath the rippling waves, though they had the benefit of forcing the Wrathful Thunder to squint its eyes when it approached him. If all else failed he could attempt to break past the fanged wyvern… though the beast was aware of its own limited visibility too, ordering more fulgurbugs into the air around itself and flare to life, creating a net-like barrier of thunder element.

"C'mon, I planned this out... Any second now would be  _lovely_ ," he hissed, crouching low and tightening his grasp on his sword. He could practically see what the beast was thinking—if he jumped into the water, the bugs would fly in and shock him to death. If he stood his ground, it would gore him, throw him into the pool, and  _then_ shock him to death. To a beast like the Wrathful Thunder, victory over hunters was not a new sensation… but it was a satisfying one. It had felt that time and time again. Whatever past it had endured led it to enjoy tormenting people. Seeing him trapped, with no hope of escape, its snarl twisted into something of a demented, savage grin as step by step it drew closer to the hunter, again chuckling with that rise-and-fall growl.

Just as Alastor was beginning to think he'd have to figure another plan out of this, though, the sound of large bubbles rapidly rising in the water behind the hunter reached his waiting ears. That sound alone easily overpowered that of the fanged wyvern's victorious 'gloating'; this time, Alastor let out a very short, nearly inaudible chuckle, and upon hearing a massive shape burst forth from the sea behind and beneath him, the hunter immediately dropped to all fours. The Zinogre wound up in preparation to drive its horns into his body… but that chance was quickly torn away by the massive ivory-bodied leviathan launching out from the depths of the sea, clamping its jaws down hard on the Wrathful Thunder's head, neck, and torso while unflinchingly barreling through all of the fulgurbugs in the space around it.

Alastor rolled to the side and pushed himself up in time to see the gargantuan Ivory Lagiacrus known as Storm Swell drag the Wrathful Thunder back across the cavern, wrenching its head from side to side while slamming the fanged wyvern into the ground repeatedly. Not even half of the leviathan's body was out of the water, yet it had almost reached the opposite wall of the area! The Zinogre's pained, fearful howls echoed throughout the cavern as the massive sea serpent effortlessly dragged it around like a chew toy. Storm Swell then twisted its head sharply, throwing the Zinogre clear through the air over Alastor's head into the watery depths. Alastor simply backed off towards a row of stalagmites at the edge of the platform while the Ivory Lagiacrus slid back into the water after its prey. Dozens upon dozens of yards worth of sea serpent slithered past him and into the water, eventually kicking up a massive splash that doused the majority of the platform Alastor was still standing on, soaking him thoroughly.

"Thanks for that," he sighed, shaking the numerous droplets from his body. The hunter waited patiently as the sound of combat below the depths continued for another minute or so. The water swelled and swayed from electrical currents surging below the surface, and eventually there was a loud  _crack_ that reverberated through the depths with such clarity that it could be heard even from where he stood. Alastor quickly took cover as the Wrathful Thunder's body burst forth from the surface of the water, sailed across the entire cavern, slammed against the far wall, and collapsed limply to the floor, its spine snapped so badly the entire thing seemed to fold in on itself. Predictably, it didn't get up.

The hunter immediately turned around to find the Ivory Lagiacrus' head above the waves, its fierce red eyes glowering down at him menacingly. While this wasn't exactly the first time he'd seen it, being this close to it firmly cemented the fact that Storm Swell was without a doubt THE biggest monster he had ever laid eyes on. Even with just its head and neck above the waves it towered almost a dozen yards over his head. After getting over the few moments of awe-struck stillness that had frozen him in place, Alastor sheathed his sword, slung the shield across his back, and knelt down, planting both fists onto the ground before him and tucking his chin in. Storm Swell's head lurched in close, and he felt its breath as it sniffed at him. A few tense moments passed before the beast let out a short snort that tossled the hunter's low-hanging ponytail over his shoulder. Its head leaned back, and as the hunter watched the Ivory Lagiacrus disappeared beneath the depths once more.

Alastor took a deep breath and sighed with relief, pushing himself to his feet completely. The Yura locals had told him that Storm Swell wasn't a particularly hostile monster to those who showed it proper respect—it was the sovereign god-king of this island, no questions asked. Even still, this cavern was  _his_ territory, so pulling Thunder into this space and causing a ruckus to draw Storm Swell out was almost as likely to end with Alastor being made into an appetizer, to say nothing of setting up his previous trap here. Still, the other alternatives weren't much better. He knew facing down a Zinogre that had taken on squads of hunters alone was likely a little too much for him, but seeing as the village didn't have anyone skilled enough to spare, this was the only choice he determined he had to put an end to the village's menace.

As luck would have it, that had been a risk worth taking. Mentally high-fiving himself for another well-executed hunt, Alastor strode over to the Wrathful Thunder's mutilated carcass and carved a few materials from it—whatever three things were in decent enough condition to really be called 'materials' at least. Slipping a roll of hide, a claw, and a section of horn into his item pouch, the hunter began to make his way towards the cavern's exit, only for his eyes to land on a figure perched on one of the fallen stalagmites. Upon being noticed the man in Zinogre armor began to slowly clap, a low chuckle escaping from beneath his helmet.

"Ah, the Crimson King! Still every bit the genius I remember," a familiar voice sounded, laughing as he pushed himself up and pulled his helmet free. "Getting a massive sea devil like that to do the dirty work for ya? I'll admit, even I didn't see that one coming. I was starting to think I'd have to rush in to save you myself."

"Ugh, Zeke…" the scarlet-haired hunter groaned, coming to a pause and rolling his head back. "I thought I made myself clear—don't call me that."

"You did?" the hunter asked, dramatically pausing while glancing up towards the ceiling with a furrowed brow and puckered lips. After a few moments his reddish-brown eyes lit up in fake realization. "Ah, right. A year and a half ago after that Gammoth hunt. Must have slipped my mind."

"I'm so sure. I'm no 'king', Zeke. Just a hunter."

"And a damned hero of the people at that!" Zeke laughed, lifting his arms to either side. "Ah, the village folk were so desperately praying for your successful return from this hunt… the village chief himself said you were like a saint who appeared in the village's darkest hour. The men were swearing to name their firstborn sons after you, the women were swearing to bear  _your_ firstborn son… Really, it was so mushy gushy that I almost threw up."

"You'd do well to quit with the theatrics."

"Oh, only two of those things were exaggerations. Really, the local wenches were swooning just at the mention of your name… you sly devil."

"Don't even start…" Alastor grumbled. "What are you doing here, anyways? I highly doubt this is just a coincidence."

Zeke flashed him a wide, ambitious grin while brushing his hair up into its characteristic spiky-ness. "Is that anyway to treat your old buddy Zeke? Come now, wouldn't you believe me if I said it was because I dearly missed my enigmatic friend?"

"No. The only thing you miss is lodging your weapon into another creature's skull for the sake of your never-ending monster-smiting conquest," he replied sharply, beginning to brush past the hunter. "I can tell just by looking at you. More than a year passed since we last met and you haven't spent even a minute of it thinking over why we fell out in the first place. You're still the same glory hound you've always been. That disgusts me."

"…Perhaps you are correct," Zeke sighed after a moment of contemplation, and Alastor came to a pause at the mouth of the tunnel. "It's true—I do value my personal fame and renown over most things. Always have, likely always will. That regrettably means we may never see eye to eye. But, I have considered what you said to me all that time ago… and it's precisely because of what you said that I'm here to ask for your help now. Circumstances demand I look beyond my ambition for once."

Alastor glanced back over his shoulder, his brow furrowing beneath his mask. The man seemed oddly genuine when he said that… and not quite in the easily-faked way Alastor could easily see through either.

"What circumstances?"

"The dangerous elder dragon kind. A great many lives are at stake, and even I must admit that I cannot face this threat on my own. The simple truth is that I need you to help me help  _them._ So… I don't ask you forgive the past, but will you hear me out in the present?"

"…I'm listening."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Please review!
> 
> I think I've firmly cemented that, as far as writing goes, my favorite parts to come up with are dialogue. I don't think a character like Mercutio would work so well if I couldn't write his spoken lines in a 'theatric' way that practically leans on the fourth wall at times. Are you enjoying the dialogue exchanges, faithful reader?
> 
> Oh, and a fun little tidbit for you all. Mercutio's mention of Corvus' boots being unique is a reference to my annoying stubborn attitude keeping me from drawing ANYONE with similar footwear. Mila, Falia, Corvus... every sketch I've done has them all wearing boots unlike anyone else's. So, I had a stupid grin on my face while I was writing that line.
> 
> And now we finally introduce one of my other personal favorite characters, Alastor! Why is he my favorite? Well, apart from being named after the sword Dante uses throughout much of Devil May Cry 1, and wearing a mask ala Frost from TMC, AND using a charge blade (first time I've written a charge blade fight scene too!) he's very much a Badass Normal character in a world where those tend to fall behind compared to the beasts like Mila and Zeke, only he's actually able to keep up with them solely due to his own skill, smarts, and luck. In a sense he's a very 'traditional' character compared to the rest of the cast, since he doesn't have Sense or Arts to fall back on, so he has to do a lot more dirty work to bridge the gap. In truth he does actually have a few more tricks up his sleeve, but those are for much later down the line. All you need to know is that he's basically Tuxedo Mask with a gigantic flaming sword-axe. No wonder the ladies love him.
> 
> I picture Alastor being voiced by Greg Chun, the same guy who voices Ike, Eldigan, Lukas, and Ephraim in Fire Emblem… but some of you may know him better as Adam in Nier Automata. I liked the softer, more 'controlled' deep voice with the potential for the occasional intense outburst for Alastor's character, rather than something that just seemed almost too intense all the time. Plus Greg Chun kinda has this 'educated' tone of voice that meshes well with Alastor being a strategist and thinker, and his voice acting in Shadows of Valentia really sold me on how I wanted Alastor to sound.
> 
> Last note for our red-headed hunter, his current theme song is Drones by Rise Against, which is also the song I wrote this fight to. Sorta like how Nightwish is Mila's hype band, Rise Against is Alastor's. If him having a hype band didn't clue you in, he's important.
> 
> Now then, the fight scene. I've always thought I was good at writing fight scenes, to the point that I once thought fight scenes were the only thing I was good at writing. But, looking back on my previous works, lots of the monster fights really just ended up being super powered badasses beating down on punching bags. While not always the case, I determined that strong hunters fighting weak monsters was a problem for a Monster Hunter story. Power fantasies are great, but so are challenges that feel rewarding for the characters to overcome. So, what was the logical step? Buffing the monsters. Making them act smarter, move more, actively block or evade attacks, using the environment to limit hunter movements, even giving them new moves and abilities. These are things I normally only really thought to use in my person vs person fights. I thought a Zinogre was the perfect monster to showcase this standard because of how wild they are to fight. Thunder here was just the tip of the fight scene iceberg. So, moving forwards, expect to see monsters that are smart, fast, and strong, and that can use their inherent abilities in ways the games suggest they CAN do, but they don't necessarily show. That, or they're basically just titans like Storm Swell, who you do NOT want to mess with.
> 
> But there's another topic to touch on! Man, and here I wanted to keep my notes short... I realize that most monsters have been bosses for the characters to defeat. While obviously enough that's sorta what the earlier MonHun games presented them as, but starting with Amatsu in the last side chapter I wrote for TMC, I decided it may be a more real way of writing to show the monsters as living creatures with personality and mannerisms all their own. That way the monsters can be characters of their own too, not just health bars for the MCs to deplete. Storm Swell and Wrathful Thunder are, again, setting a new precedent I intend to adhere to for the remainder of Heritors, so let me know if you thought they were portrayed well enough here!
> 
> Anyways, I've talked your ears off for long enough. Don't forget to favorite and follow to keep up on when the next chapter's posted, and leave a review if you have the time. Like I always say, I just want to hear from my readers so I can know if you guys are enjoying what I'm putting out there. That being said, I'll see you all next time!


	8. Rise and Ruin

The air over the Aptonoth-drawn cart heading back to Ran Fos was awkward and silent for a good long while. The Felyne driver wasn't asking any questions, and neither the hunters nor the handler really knew what could really be said. What had occurred was… well, certainly  _something._ No one had gotten too badly wounded or anything. Not physically, at least.

The quiet was definitely starting to get to Mila, though. She hated awkward silences and wordless gazes. They were just too melodramatic for her. Deciding that enough was enough, she planted her hand assuredly on Elliot's shoulder, giving him a sympathetic smile and a thumbs up when he glanced up at her.

"Hey, chin up, tough guy! You were doing really good out there today!" she grinned. "So the end got a bit dicey. So what? That's just how things are! Fact is you were really handling yourself out there for a while, and that's something to be proud of!"

"I-I-I…! that… you… blurb."

Mila's expression shifted to one of perplexity when the young hunter abruptly passed out and slumped over in his seat, thumping his head on the wooden bench. Her eyes darted sideways to the figures of Falia, Ignatius, and Jylian seated across from her—all three pairs of eyes were also glued to the unconscious hunter.

"Is... he dead?" Jyl asked, cocking her head to the side and reaching a hand over to feel for a pulse.

She was a huntress of about average height, with short reddish-orange hair and a pair of wide-open blue eyes. She was pretty cute, with rounded facial features, fitting for her fairly high-pitched voice, though a prominent half circle of scars caused by a Jaggi nipping her left jaw did mar her appearance somewhat. She still wore the wound with pride though. She was outfitted with a set of high rank Wroggi gunner armor (which reminded Mila quite a bit of Val Habar Guildmaster Maynard's 'cowboy' outfit) while a bow crafted from parts of the same monster was mounted on a short rack to her left, beside Elliot's Great Jaggi sword.

"…Yup, he's alive. Just passed out. Darn it."

" _Darn it_?" Falia repeated, turning her gaze sideways to look towards the huntress. "Listen, I get that his showing was a lot less than spectacular, but did you actually  _want_ the poor kid to die? That's kinda harsh."

"No, no! Not at all, no! I meant, like, imagine how crazy of a story it'd have been if Mila actually  _killed_ someone by complimenting them!"

"I think I'm okay with non-lethal praise," Mila chuckled, patting the hunter's leg. "I don't think my dad or brother would last very long otherwise!"

Elliot was definitely worn the most ragged out of the lot of them. She had thought a hunt for a Great Wroggi and its pack that had been antagonizing a nearby village wouldn't be too much of a hassle for him, and initially, she'd been right! While the other two were off gathering flower nectar for Ignatius' kinsect, Falia and her had watched Elliot work from a distance with binoculars. The short sword wielder had dispatched most of the pack with surprisingly adept sneaking and throat slitting—something Mila had suggested he do after a failed hunt some months ago, as she herself had once used sneaky tactics before the whole Radiance thing happened. Of course, all it took was one sighting him to alert the rest, but even after that he'd managed pretty good, downing a few more of the small monsters with precision stabs to the neck or chest and even managing to get some deep cuts in on the pack leader.

Then things immediately went sideways when he failed to dodge a blow that knocked the face plate of his Hunter's helm clear off. Poor kid had such terrible performance anxiety that he could hardly fight without his face covered, and all that skill he'd shown before just evaporated. Mila leapt into action the moment the young hunter had gotten hit by a poison cloud, and despite her speed she hadn't quite been able to get to him before he'd gotten roughed up by the pack, but with her long sword Manami she very quickly cut through to the young greenhorn and warded off the poisonous bird wyverns, using the weapon's water element to dispel their toxic clouds. As that was happening, Jyl and Iggy wandered onto the scene, specifically stating they thought they'd heard a young girl squealing in panic. The three of them pretty effortlessly finished the hunt, with Jyl attempting to end the fleeing pack leader's life with an arrow to the back of the skull, only for Ignatius to swat the arrow out of the air with his glaive before it could reach its target. The archer had made sure to voice her displeasure about that, but Mila had made it clear enough from the start that if Elliot couldn't repel or slay it, they'd let it go. And after the beating it and its pack had just received, they definitely wouldn't be bothering that neck of the woods again.

"So long as he maintains this meek attitude of his, I fear this will only continue to happen," Ignatius sighed, breaking another long pause. "It is unfitting for a hunter."

He was tall and slender, with long platinum-blonde hair he kept bound behind his head to run down his back. His cool greyish-blue eyes were almost always narrowed and focused, fitting for his sharp features (Mila thought he was a pretty solid eight-and-a-half, borderline-nine). His skin was also more of a yellow shade than any of the others in the carriage, and if that wasn't clue enough as to his heritage, the long, pointed ears were—he was half-Wyverian. His armor was the 'exotic' Skalda armor made from scorpions called Toxic Kumoris. That was about all the information Mila really needed for the chills to run down her spine. Bugs weren't really her thing.

They absolutely were Ignatius', though. His black chitin armor, with all its hooks, claws, stingers, and other odd jabby bits made for a veritable playground for Krushetta. The large black-and-blue Alucanid was currently resting on his shoulder, occasionally nipping its pincers but otherwise keeping still… which just made Mila feel like it was staring at her. Why did bugs have to have eyes that didn't have pupils? It was just so  _creepy,_ like abyssal black voids of endless dark nothingness. She wasn't sure if that was worse than the glowing murder-eyes some larger bugs had, but least kinsects were bearably  _small_ , unlike Seltas Queens or Nerscyllas or... whatever other kinds of ginormous undiscovered bugs were still out there. Ignatius had pointed out that it seemed hypocritical that she adhered to an 'all lives have value' principle yet found insects disgusting. Of course she felt that they were important parts of the ecosystem and that made them valuable and important, blah blah blah. Just because she  _respected_ their position in the ecosystem didn't mean she had to  _like_ them. Fortunately she and Ignatius could simply agree to disagree on that particular point. Otherwise he was perfectly charming!

"Well yeah, we're trying to get to that point," she explained with a quick shrug. "It's… a work in progress, but he'll get there!"

"I do not question the possibility, but perhaps another instructor may be of more help to him."

"Hey, hey! My methods are great, thank you very much!"

"For you, perhaps. But for Elliot, it would be wise to consider his… personal predicament."

"You mean his super massive totally not-subtle-at-all crush on her?" Falia dryly replied with a roll of the eyes. "Yeah, that's definitely one heck of a predicament to be having. I hear it's becoming an epidemic."

"You're just jealous that all the boys notice Mila more than you and your big boobs," Jyl playfully scoffed, jabbing a finger towards the handler's chest only for Falia to swat her hand away before it even came close.

"I don't  _want_ attention. Especially not about… that."

"Up! Better lay off, Jyl! That's a touchy subject for her. Specifically, a subject she only lets  _me_ touch."

"Wha-?! You—just…  _quiet!_ " the handler hissed, cheeks lighting up a fiery red hue while Mila and Jyl laughed.

"Ooh, I have  _gotta_ hear this one!" the archer giggled devilishly, tapping her fingers together eagerly. "C'mon, what's the story? Leave in allll the good bits!"

"Sorry, but I made a solemn, and more importantly  _sober_  oath not to tell! More for Falia's sake than mine. She just gets so embarrassed! It's honestly kinda adorable. Isn't that right, Sweetheart?"

"I hate you."

For the remainder of the trip the hunters occupied their time with an oddly philosophical debate on the finer points of Poogie fashion, while Ignatius poked at Elliot's ribs with his foot in an effort to rouse him, eventually getting the young hunter to awaken with a start. After a few more miles of traveling, the carriage neared the massive walls of western Ran Fos. The barricades stretched about a hundred feet upwards and were often coated in a steady cascade of rainwater flowing down the slight incline, giving the illusion that the city was 'rising' from the ground below. At least, that's how Mila saw it. It was just so much cooler that way.

The hunters' wagon passed beneath the massive arch of the Guild gate, where the team disembarked to submit their reports on the hunt and items gathered in the field while claiming the quest reward. Each gate had a reception area for hunters to claim their rewards after returning from quests, even the lesser-used north and south gates. The western gate they had returned through led out to the Flooded Forest grounds, and the eastern one was the quickest path to the seemingly-endless Everwood, the great forest that made up a massive portion of eastern Maglea (and also one of Mila's favorite places  _ever_ ). These reception areas were all opposite from the offices that city officials and Guild employees did their work in, all that boring paperwork and city affairs stuff. Well, at least the southern gate had the surveyors, so she supposed they were alright.

Their team was one of many returning from assignments. It was easy to tell at a glance who had failed and who had succeeded. Some hunters wore battered armor and grim expressions, while others were cheery as can be. Some walked slouched and tired, and some were practically bouncing off the walls, adrenaline still fresh in their veins. Old and young, hunters of all shapes and sizes could be seen in these walls.

While her group was finishing up with receiving the reward for the Wroggi pack quest, though, an older hunter in well-worn Diablos armor a couple windows down began cussing harshly at the liaison working there. Most eyes turned that way as the man's voice raised to an echo in the chamber.

"You can't tell me it ain't real! Look at it! There's the bloody stamp!"

"Sir, those were put out without the Guild's knowledge. A statement was made-"

"'Without the Guild's knowledge' my  _ass_! What  _doesn't_ the Guild know about in this day and age? They shove their noses into every little thing that goes on!"

"Sir, please-"

"Don't you 'sir' me! I paid good money for that meal voucher! Money that you Guildies are probably getting in your paychecks! And now you're telling me after I work my ass off over the last four days on this blasted quest that I can't use it?! This might as well be robbery!"

"I'm sorry, but the Guild is not responsible for those vouchers, so we will not accept them," the liaison said matter-of-factly, raising her voice while maintaining an in-control tone. "Our surveyors are investigating the matter as we speak, but until we receive further word, there is nothing I can do."

Mila and the rest of the team got their report submitted and received their rewards during the veteran's next rage-fueled outburst, though they scurried on out of the building before really catching the rest of what was said. The huntress had seen a few similar instances occur around the city by now. The Guild had issued a statement a few days ago regarding the illegitimacy of the vouchers, but many either didn't hear about it, refused to acknowledge it, or weren't in the city for it, resulting in quite a few angry hunters blowing their tops off over the 'Guild's attempted robbery'. Causing huge scenes like that didn't really do much for anybody.

"I can't help but feel bad for that guy," Jyl sighed as the group made their way into the city proper. The sky had begun to darken during their return trip, and with that came slightly less-crowded streets for them to walk through. "Those vouchers really did seem real... and the promised rewards were  _really_ nice. It'd have been a nice chance for those struggling hunters out there to make a better living, if it wasn't too good to be true."

"It is easy to see how so many hunters fell for it," Ignatius agreed, glancing to his shoulder as his kinsect moved into place there. "It was rather similar to previous events the Guild has approved, at least in practice... those rewards always made me feel suspicious though. An extra carve I can understand, perhaps even removing the limit on gathering in the field, but doubling the zenni earned from a quest? Anyone who believed that was practically asking to be scammed."

"Or they were just  _desperate._ I know my dad would have jumped on that opportunity if he had the chance. Hunting alone just isn't enough to earn a living for a hunter's equipment, home, and family these days..." the archer frowned, looking towards Mila. "Isn't your brother a Guild investigator now or something? Does he know anything about the case?"

"Uh... lemme think, we talked about that a few weeks ago. Or was it a week and a half? Meh, I dunno, the days all kinda blend together. Anywho he thinks someone higher up has a hand in all this. Cuz of the official seals, y'know?"

"So... someone in the Guild is... corrupt?" Elliot asked, lifting an eyebrow. Mila, Ignatius, and Falia exchanged a glance and a frown when he turned back towards them.

"Eh… I doubt it. All the real higher ups are pretty reputable," Mila shrugged. "Falia's dad is one of them, and Iggy's dad is—"

"I would prefer we not get into that," Ignatius cut in swiftly.

"—and the others all have real good PR, so I'd say they're pretty trustworthy. People are reeeal careful about not letting villains into high governing positions, so it's prolly nothing big."

"Riiight. A scam involving every tavern in the city isn't 'big'," Falia muttered with a roll of the eyes. "I think she's trying to say it isn't as big a deal as it  _could_ be, but that it's still a cause for concern."

"Exactly! You know me so well."

"After twenty years, I probably should," the handler smirked before turning towards the Wroggi-clad huntress. "In any case, hopefully the surveyors will get this figured out so it'll stop being an issue."

"They'd better, before the veterans decide to start a riot or something," the archer shrugged before coming to a pause at an intersection. "Anyways, I gotta get home and make sure Talim hasn't clawed up anything out of anxiety again, so I'll catch you guys later!"

After seeing the huntress off, the rest of them began to head southwest, towards the Eagle's Perch. While the sky had grown a lot darker during the return trip, the streets were well illuminated by the glowstones placed sequentially throughout the city atop tall poles. The light reflected off the rain-soaked ground and cast a sort of hazy yellow glow onto the walls, split only by the long shadows of signs and parked carriages. Given all the old rumors of that shadowy killer that plagued the region Ran Fos had a pretty poor reputation after dark, but aside from the occasional drunken hunter looking to square up with someone, or small time mugger complete with bandana over the mouth, Mila hadn't really seen anything that qualified as 'dangerous'. Then again, that very well could have been because of  _her_ reputation too. People understood that Mila the Untouchable Huntress didn't get into fights—she ended them.

However, when the group neared the tavern, she did feel a twinge as a large group entered Awareness' radius. The Perch was definitely packed... but in addition to the bargoers, there was a lone figure atop the structure. Though lying mostly still, the figure pushed itself up just as they approached. Mila's eyes trailed skywards as the figure stretched, then strode forwards, hopping off the edge of roof and dropping right in front of the group. Everyone else immediately jumped in surprise or took a combat stance, only to relax once they realized the drop-in was Makiyuma.

"Gods, can't you ever just walk up to us like a normal person?!" Falia huffed, sliding a slinger pod back into its pouch on her belt.

"Yes, but I'm not going to," the Hybrid replied shortly, turning his gaze towards the kinsect mounted on Ignatius' shoulder, clicking its mandibles angrily at him. "Halfling, do tell your bug to silence itself. That incessant chittering is giving me a headache."

"Some might say that headache is deserved, Hybrid," Ignatius retorted, though with a short brush of his hand the kinsect quieted down, shaking droplets of water from its shell. Satisfied, the Hybrid's gaze trailed straight over Elliot without a second thought and landed on Mila—immediately his expression lit up.

"Welcome back, Lady Mila. I trust your performance was as beautiful as ever."

"You know it!" she grinned. "How was your nap? You rested up enough to join me on a quest tomorrow?"

"But of course! A leisurely snooze in the rain does wonders for my scales... and my prowess." Among the Hybrid's more peculiar traits was his love of dozing on the roof of the Eagle's Perch—he might as well have lived there, considering the small space Mila's father set aside for him up there and all. Fortunately the city didn't seem to have a problem with it.

"Good to hear! We're gonna grab a bite—come on in and join us!"

"If you wish it, then I shall gladly do so. But, before it slips my mind, someone came by looking for you earlier," Maki said, stepping to the side to allow her to pass. "Quite the crowd had formed around him."

"So it seems," Mila noted, nodding eagerly and stepping towards the door. "Well, let's see who's callin'!"

* * *

The air between the three surveyors was tense and frustrated. Each wordlessly pored over the various papers laid out on the table between them, the information they had collected, and yet nothing was adding up.

Shortly after their meetings with the governing officials of Ran Fos the previous week, Ricard had affirmed that the seal press in Kilroy's possession had properly fitted onto the wax prints without flaw, which immediately narrowed their suspect list down to those in the Governor's employ. They'd spent almost every moment since interviewing the staff they figured were the most suspect, and while plenty of them had acted difficult towards Corvus and Dominic, the older surveyor proved quite good at handling those types. They'd just finished the last of those interviews, and now they were compiling what they had discovered in a small break room Kilroy had set aside for their private use, drawing lines between testimonies and figuring out which stories didn't line up.

And yet, they were still stuck in a standstill with the investigation. The threat of the vouchers bringing in anymore money was gone now that the Guild had issued an official statement stating the tickets were counterfeit. Their timing probably could have been better, but according to Viper the idea was to make sure that the stolen funds weren't being funneled through Guild channels. That would just make it seem like the Guild was lying to everyone's faces, which they understandably didn't need to have happen.

But, as good as it was that the funds were no longer flowing, it did mean that the team's time to find the ringleader behind it all was growing short. Chances are they would be trying to smuggle the zenni out of the city as soon as they could, so the surveyors had their work cut out for them. Each pair of eyes dragging across line after line of hastily scribbled ink, the only distractions in the room being their coffee mugs and the occasional comment or recommendation from one of the others.

"Maybe we should double up the interviews on the ones that still seemed suspect," Dominic suggested, scratching at the side of his head. He was a fairly average fellow. Average height, short brown hair he kept high and tight, rounded hazel eyes… even his age seemed very average, being just shy of thirty years and appearing exactly as such. Corvus couldn't help but look at the guy and just think 'average'. Fortunately he'd been at it long enough to be better than average at his job, which was about what they needed right at the moment.

Ricard let out a weighty sigh and shook his head. He was easily twice Dominic's age, though he got real touchy about the subject whenever anyone asked. His hair had long grayed though, and he kept the length out of his blue eyes with a simple side part. While he hadn't aged terribly, the years hadn't exactly been too kind to the old surveyor either, leaving him with a perpetually tired and 'done-with-this-shit' expression. Captain Viper always called him 'Sunshine'.

"We  _can_ double up, but I doubt we'd get much of anything out of it aside from wasted time," he said, rubbing his brow irately. "Our suspect list went down the drain real quick. Everybody's either got an alibi that checks out, or doesn't know where Kilroy keeps his press."

"And we're positive Kilroy isn't on this list still?"

"Cool the hate-boner for the guy, Corvus. Pinning this on someone important like Kilroy might make for a big front page story, but it's way more likely to backfire on us. The tracks point elsewhere."

" _Every_ lead points somewhere else. Fact is, he's the only one with unrestricted access to that seal press."

"And I don't feel like risking my career based on that assumption. You don't go after a key governing official without a  _lot_ of evidence. And in case you didn't notice, we have  _nothing_  on him apart from the seal press matching the stamps. So, literally any employee could have done this if they tried hard enough."

"Unless someone on the outside did it?" Dominic suggested, though the older surveyor sighed at that remark as well.

"We've been over this. Security detail in the Guild gates is top notch. If someone on the outside was breaking in, we'd know. If someone on the inside was corrupt, the others would hopefully catch on sooner rather than later. There'd at least be a paper trail… but since the money isn't going through the Guild's channels, there's  _none_ of that here. We have to be missing something…"

"Well, it's gotta be  _someone_ who works in this building, or who  _did_ work in this building. That much we've agreed on. So I guess that means we probably need to branch outwards. Get some records on previous employees, make a few house calls?"

Ricard groaned at the suggestion. "That's the last thing I need… more talking. Alright, we've spent enough time busting our heads over this. It's late, and I really need a drink. We'll meet up tomorrow morning and decide on a proper course of action then."

"So long as you don't show up with another hangover," Corvus scoffed, receiving a scowl from Ricard in return.

"If it gets me through the night, you have no room to complain, shrimp."

Corvus and Dominic shared a glance and a shrug, then set about pulling their documents together. A quick glance at his watch showed that it was already half past nine—another late night. Corvus had plenty of those lately… The surveyors finished packing up and left the room, finding themselves greeted by mostly quiet halls and dim light filtering in from the glowstone-lit streets outside the windows. A janitor Felyne was busy mopping the hallway opposite their heading, so fortunately Corvus didn't have to get his handkerchief out, but that was one of maybe half a dozen souls they saw before he neared the exit. Dominic decided on taking the track cannon back to the southern Guild gate while Ricard just insisted on heading to the nearest tavern. The surveyor was about to call for a taxi carriage when he realized the familiar presence of his reading glasses in his breast pocket was missing.

He groaned with irritation before turning around and heading back into the Guild gate. The second he was through the door though, his expression was all cool and collected—he casually strode up to the receptionist gal, resting an arm across the top of her desk and shooting her a friendly smile.

"Hello again, gorgeous."

"Hello to you too," she smiled, glancing up from her work only to raise an eyebrow. "Didn't you just leave?"

"Well, yes, but I forgot a couple things. Namely to ask if you might join me for coffee sometime, perhaps? Maybe a fine dinner for two?"

"Oh. You're one of  _those_  types."

"At first glance you'd think that, but I assure you I'm much more than just a flirt with a charming voice!"

"I'm so sure. Well Mister Charming Voice, as  _dashing_ as you must think you are, I'm going to respectfully turn that offer down. Now, if there's nothing else, I have work I'd like to finish."

Corvus' shoulders slumped as he let out a short sigh in defeat, but he shook his head and pushed up from the desk.

"Alright, alright. I left my readers in one of the breakrooms. Can I run up and get 'em? Shouldn't take more than a couple minutes."

"…Glasses, hmm?" The receptionist paused in thought, staring intently at him for a few seconds longer than was normally comfortable. After some deliberation she nodded, procuring a key and walking out from behind the desk to unlock the door leading up to the other floors. "Well, the rules normally say no after-hours entry to non-gate personnel, but I suppose a surveyor of all people can be trusted that far. Just to the break room and back, alright? And if it's not too much to ask, let me see you wearing them before you go. To… confirm that's what you're actually doing."

"Heh, you got it," he smiled, making his way up the staircase to the floor the breakroom was on. Based on her tone, she must've had a thing for guys with glasses. Maybe he should wear them more… sure, they were a pain when it rained, but if they got him more dates, who was he to complain?

That merry thought in mind, the surveyor stepped off onto the floor and made his way down the hall towards the room he and the other surveyors used. The lights were still on inside, and a sign had been placed to prop the door open. He instinctively went for his handkerchief—that janitor Felyne was probably in there cleaning. Stepping into the room, he found it was a veritable flood of soapy water already, which the cat-like creature was clearly not too pleased to be walking through bare-paw while handling a mop clearly way too large for its hands. Its ears twitched as his boots splashed into the floor, and the creature turned to face him. It had a black and white two-tone coat and a large pair of orange eyes.

"Can I help you, nya?"

"Just looking for my glasses," he said, voice slightly muffled beneath the white handkerchief over his mouth and nose. "Seen 'em? They should be in here."

"Oh, so these sparkly things are yours," the creature said, reaching a paw up for the collar of its vest where Corvus' glasses hung. "I find lots of shiny stuff after hours, but mewed be surpurrised how much of it people just furget about the next day, nya!"

Setting the mop handle against the table, the Felyne pattered across the soppy floor towards him, holding the glasses out the whole way. About three quarters of the way there though, the Felyne slipped on the wet surface and face planted into a puddle with a bubbly yowl, sending Corvus' readers skidding across the floor towards him. He let out a short sigh as he stooped down and plucked the soaking, cat hair-covered glasses off the floor, holding them at arm's length.

"N-nya! Apawlogies!" the Felyne blubbered, scrambling to get its paws underneath it only to slip again, do a full rotation in midair, and land hard on its back with another splash. "Me- _owww_ …"

"Well, at least they aren't broken," Corvus grunted, trying to wipe the glasses clear with the piece of cloth he held and pluck the hairs out of the joints. What an incompetent cat... He felt his nose twitch irritably as his allergies began to kick in, though fortunately the fur was wet enough that it didn't seem as bad as it could have been. At least his eyes weren't watering yet. "Are you sure you're qualified for this, cat?"

"I'll have you know I graduated near the top of my class at the Guild Meow-cademy!"

"Really now? Same here. Even graduated a year early. Course, I'm a surveyor now… why are you scrubbing floors?"

"A Felyne's gotta start somewhere, nya! This janitor job will give me the expurrience I need to move up! Meow-be someday I'll even get to go to the New World like Simon!"

"Hm. That's a good goal to aim for. My sister mentioned wanting to join up with the Fifth Fleet before they head out in a few years, so maybe you'll end up swabbing the deck of the ship she's on."

"Mew think so?! I really hope so, nya!" the cat purred, finally getting its feet underneath it and striking a proud pose ruined by the soap bubbles still clinging to its fur.

"Mmhm… Well, thanks for finding my glasses. I'll be—" Corvus paused as he began to walk out of the room, a thought occurring to him. Despite its sheer incompetency, maybe it could have some useful information... He swiveled back towards the cat with a raised eyebrow. "You say you find things after dark, yeah?"

"Meowf course! It's impawsible to clean when efurrybody is coming and going during the day, so I work with the late crowd. That way meowbody tracks mud onto my purrfect floors."

"Pft, right, yeah, 'perfect'… Anyways, you want to move up in the world, right? Well, if you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

"You sure about that? Beclaws my granddaddy was a Palico and I inherited his razor sharp—"

"Figuratively!"

"Aww… I always like a shoulder rub. Meow can I help?"

"Me and my fellow surveyors are investigating a… certain matter pertaining to the Governor. Have you seen anybody going into Kilroy's office after he leaves? Or do you know anybody that stays after hours even if they don't necessarily have the clearance?"

"Uhm… meowbe? I at least know the ones I've seen plenty these last couple weeks, nya. Mister Kilroy stays late sometimes. I've seen him come back late beclaws he furgot something. Scared me something meowful once while I was cleaning his office! Mister Uther has access too, but that's cuz he's the Vice-Governor. He doesn't really stay late very much though. The twin secretary sisters Shelly and Shelby have keys too, nya. Oh! And that shady prosecutor guy. I think his name's… Edgeworth? Edison? Edison! Yeah, that's the name. He furreaks me-owt. Always works real late, sometimes even after I go home fur the night."

"That's at least a decent list… anyone else?" Corvus asked, hastily scribbling the names into his notes.

"Nope, that's efurry one. At least, efurry one that I've seen, and I see lots, nya! Especially shiny things. Purr…"

Corvus nodded with a pleased smile. That list narrowed down the inquiries substantially… he couldn't believe they hadn't thought to ask about after hours workers before! Then again the day workers alone numbered well over a hundred, and there were only the three surveyors currently on this job… regardless, this cat was the best kind of janitor.

"What's your name, kitty cat?" he asked.

"Jim, nya."

"And how much do you make working here, Jim?"

That question made the Felyne's ears fold against his head. "Unpaid internship, nya. Furtunately my roommate doesn't mind covering expenses fur me.  _And_ he gives great shoulder rubs."

"Well, if this all works out, maybe I'll see if I can do something to bump you up to something paid. Till then…" he reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean three-hundred zenni coin, flipping it off his thumb towards the cat, who meowed in surprise and leapt up to catch it with pupils as big and round as the coin.

"Nya- _ha_! Thank you, Meowster surveyor!"

Corvus smiled before stepping out of the room, stifling a sneeze as he tucked his handkerchief away. Helping out the little guy felt nice. He wondered if the southern Guild gate had a janitor… in any case, he'd have to look into those names he'd written down later. They'd be crucial moving forwards. Until then, he was more concerned with making sure his glasses would look decent enough for the cute gal downstairs.

* * *

About an hour later, the surveyor found himself stifling a yawn while walking up the short flight of stairs to the front door of the Adler's home. The lights were still on inside from what he could tell… he wasn't sure if that meant Mila or his father were still awake, but he was at least able to tell that his sister was indeed home just by proximity. Readying himself for either eventuality, he pushed his way inside, only to be greeted by the sound of Mila's laughter coming from the kitchen. He lifted an eyebrow when he heard an unfamiliar voice speaking, and after hanging his coat up and pulling his boots off he strode down the hall, poking his head around the corner.

Sure enough, Mila was seated at the table in her black under-armor wear with a cup of tea before her, and across the table from her was a man with parted black hair and violet eyes. Judging from his build alone it was clear he was a hunter, but his outfit was… surprisingly nice. Like a tailored grey and black suit with orange lining. His sister turned her head as he poked his head in, and she gave him a short wave and a smile.

"Hey howdy hey, li'l bro!"

"Mila, does Dad know you're bringing guys back home this late at night while wearing so little, or am I supposed to keep my mouth shut about this?" he smirked, stepping into the room. The two hunters both just laughed.

"If a good-natured chat counts as scandalous for your household, mine must not be as bad as I thought," the dark-haired man chuckled, taking a drink from his own cup. "Every time I brought a lady home it was always 'so when's the marriage?'"

" _Still?!_ Oh, you poor thing!" Mila giggled. "Your mom was  _so_ insistent on us getting hitched that one time I stopped in for a visit! I don't think I've ever seen someone's mother get  _that_ upset when I dropped the 'just friends' line!"

"Oh, don't remind me… she was complaining about me 'letting you get away' for  _weeks._ It got so bad that my father almost disowned me again."

"Wait, you were disowned?"

"No no,  _almost_ disowned. Like, multiple times of being nearly disowned. Always walking the line, but never quite crossing it. I figure they at least want to keep the heir around until they can make a more suitable replacement out of one of my younger siblings."

"Gotcha. Oh, right! Li'l bro, this is Lowell! Lowell, this is my younger brother Corvus," the huntress said, sweeping her arm towards Corvus with a mischievous smirk. She then leaned over the table and raised her hand to the side of her mouth as though walling Corvus off from the conversation, only to not hush her voice at all. "Feel free to point out that he's short. Everyone does."

Corvus nodded his head with a peevish expression, slowly folding his arms. If that's how she wanted to play it… "So is that a go-ahead to mention the smut stash under your bed, or…?"

"Didn't care last week, and I don't care during this one neither!" she laughed, making Corvus throw his arms up with a disgruntled sigh. Of course. Unflappable as always. Lowell, meanwhile, had been watching the short exchange with initial interest, then amusement, then shock. Currently he was sitting still, wearing an expression of pure deliberation.

"Well, it's plain to see you both are close," he said with a short, slightly perturbed smile. "Learned something I wasn't quite expecting either, but I suppose the hunter's life is chock full of surprises."

"Hang around that one for a week and you'll have your fill of 'surprises' for years. Just ask Falia. Poor girl can barely keep up with Mila as-is, and that's her  _job_."

"I'd bet. Every letter Mila sends my way has a very… colorful description of her most recent quest. Last one involved upper-cutting a Tigrex. Again, wasn't quite expecting that."

"Neither was the Tigrex!" Mila grinned, proudly planting her hands on her hips and lifting her chin up.

Corvus nodded with an amused huff. Mila's 'colorful' stories were a lot better spoken than written. When she got excited her handwriting become nigh-illegible, and she got excited a lot. She was certainly too excited for the hour it was. That thought only reminded Corvus of how drowsy he was feeling, and the surveyor stifled another yawn.

"Well, it's been lovely chatting, but I just worked an eleven-hour shift and I have an early start on another one tomorrow, so in the interest of my sanity I'm going to bed. I really don't care what you both get up to, but just do me a favor and keep the noise to a reasonable level, would ya? Sis, that goes double for you."

"I'll think about it," the huntress smirked deviously, only to laugh and wave her hand. "Hah, no worries! Sleep tight, Corvus!"

"Good meeting you," Lowell added, lifting his cup towards the surveyor.

"You too, Lowell."

It wasn't until well after he had cleaned himself up and turned in for the night that it finally clicked with Corvus that the man sitting in the kitchen with his sister was one of the Four Faces Mercutio had mentioned. Odd that Lowell just kinda showed up out of the blue for a visit like this… but that wasn't really a big concern to him. His thinking time was better spent figuring out how to solve the voucher case, and right now, it wasn't thinking time, it was sleeping time.

* * *

"Well, your brother does raise a good point—it's getting rather late," Lowell sighed after Corvus strode out of sight, setting his now-empty cup down. "I should probably head back to the inn soon... especially if a late night chat will get me on your father's bad side."

"Oh relax, Corvus was just messin' with you! My dad is  _super_ chill. Like, THE nicest guy ever. Heck, I bet he'd even let you crash on the couch! Sure you don't want to stay for another cup? It's really no big deal."

"Trust me, I would love to spend more time chatting with you, but I did just fly halfway across the country, and I never was a fan of airships. I think a proper bed would do my back a little better than a couch. No offense to your furniture."

"None taken," Mila snickered, pushing herself up from her seat. "Just thought I'd offer since it's late, and the city  _kinda_ has a bad reputation after dark. Oh, speaking of, want me to walk you back? I mean, you've never been to this city, you've got that big ol' case with you, and out of armor you look a  _little_ too handsome to be a hunter at first glance, so someone might try to mug you."

"All fair points—and thank you for the compliment. But what's this about a poor reputation? A man in Harth mentioned that too…"

"Oh, just some mysterious serial killer from like three hundred years ago that they never caught and who supposedly haunts the cities in the region to this day. I think it's just a buncha copycats cashing in on the myth to try and get away with it."

"That's rather concerning… have you ever seen anything like that happen?"

"Nah. Some murders still happen from time to time though. Only one really got 'linked' to our mythical baddie, and that was about a month ago I think, probably more. A hunter was found strung up dead in an alley with his throat cut, and someone used his blood to write 'Never Forget I'm Here' on the wall."

"Terrible…" Lowell muttered, folding his hands in thought. "Did you know the victim?"

"Not really. I hunt with a lot of people around the city though; guess I'm just kinda used to never seeing randoms again. The hunting grounds are like that sometimes, so no use getting hung up on it."

"This is... rather different from someone being killed on a hunt, Mila. One's an occupational hazard, the other is cold-blooded murder."

"I guess… but even still, you've got nothing to worry about with me around! I'll see any baddies coming  _way_ before they getcha!"

"Hah! Even if they got past you, I'm not exactly easy to kill. Remember that Gravios hunt? Stomped me into a six-foot crater, and I came out of there with nothing worse than a mangled suit of armor," the lancer chuckled. Mila laughed in agreement—the kinds of hits Lowell could take and keep going was astronomical thanks to his Shield Hunting Sense. He began to push himself up from the seat as well, only for a light  _thud_ to sound under the table. A look of realization lit up his face, and he gestured for her to wait a moment before reaching under the table. He emerged a second later with the long black briefcase he'd been carrying since they met up at the Eagle's Perch, setting it down on the open space of the table. "I was so caught up in our conversation that I'd nearly forgotten. These are for you."

"Aw, well that's sweet of you! But what's the occasion? I don't like accepting things I haven't really earned."

"It's the favor you asked me for after that same hunt. They've been done for a while, but I thought you might appreciate it more if I gave them to you in person. Plus… well, weapon shipping costs aren't cheap."

"Well now you've gone and got me excited!" she grinned, eagerly stepping forwards as he tapped a hand on the lid of the case and shifted it towards her. "Let's take a look-see!"

Mila quickly popped the clasps and lifted the top, eyes widening and breath catching in her throat when her starry-eyed gaze landed on a pair of dual blades, each shaped like long crescents. They had simple leather-wrapped hilts, but the gleaming silver metal edges were crafted from resembled polished slivers of the moon itself. That said nothing of the flats of the blades—dark greenish-grey metal with an orange-red mark in the center, and all of which was 'cracked' with tendrils of glowing green material within the blade that gradually pulsed with an ancient, unknowable life. She gingerly wrapped her fingers around both handles and lifted them from the briefcase to level before her, her heart nearly skipping a beat at the ever-so-gentle contact between the blades resulting in a high-pitched ring of metal that lingered several moments longer than natural, but that wasn't unpleasant to the ears.

"Oh~" she purred as her eyes ran up and down the twin blades in her grasp. They practically hummed through the air as she slowly moved them to and fro. They were weighted quite differently from most of her other blades, their design being oriented towards slashing exclusively, but that wouldn't be too big a hassle to adjust for. They were sharp, well-balanced, and by all that was holy they were  _beautiful._ She'd been mesmerized for nearly a minute before Lowell clearing his throat brought her back to reality.

"I take it that they're to your liking?"

"Like? I think I'm in love," Mila replied, eyes darting towards him for a moment only to return to the blades. Her eyes lit up with inspiration and wonder as they trailed over the ancient dual blades. "These babies need names."

"The Guild has taken to calling relics of that design the Enduring Schism. Ancient Civ weapons all get showy names like that. There's Divine Exodus, Mundus Altus, Deus Obelisk…"

"Blah, those are just catch-alls! No, these need  _personal_ names. Something that speaks for them, for the souls these swords have!"

"I don't, uh… what?"

For the time being she ignored Lowell's confused look while staring intently at the twin blades. They appeared as fresh as any newly-crafted blade she'd seen, and yet she could  _feel_ the history within these swords. They practically seemed alive to her the way the fractured, broken glass-like web of lights pulsed, like they were drawing breath. For a few brief seconds she nearly felt as though she was being pulled far into the past, to the time when some warrior of the Ancient Civilization held these blades in battle against a magnificent dragon. So great a society, only to become lost to time… Her eyes snapped open, and Mila grinned wide, brandishing the blades overhead.

"Rise and Ruin. Yeah… that's what they want to be called."

Lowell just stared blankly at her while she lowered the blades and again took to fawning over the blades. Eventually he shook his head and cleared his throat. "Okay, kinda completely lost me a couple minutes back. I know you like naming your swords and all, but I don't think I've ever heard you say why."

"I didn't? Must not have ever come up... Ah well, it's not like it's a big secret or anything. See, when I'm out there in the field, roughing it on my own and facing down wyvern after big ol' wyvern, the things I rely on the most are the swords in my hands. They aren't just tools to me. They're partners. Friends. I look out for them, and they look out for me," Mila explained, lifting Rise closer to her face so she could inspect the glowing pattern on the side closer. "And I take good care of my friends."

"Uh huh… Well, I guess if you named them then you have to like them a lot, so that's good enough for me," Lowell shrugged. "Have you ever handled a dragon element weapon before?"

"I wish! Dragon element weapons are  _not_ easy to come by. Best things available in these parts were these disgusting bug dual blades, and you couldn't  _pay_  me to use those."

"Hah! Good thing these ones aren't made from bugs then! Though I suppose the rust removal process…"

"What was that?"

"…Well, nevermind that part," the hunter smiled. "No bugs at all."

"Perfect!" Mila giggled, returning her gaze to the twin edges with renewed interest. "So, these have dragon element? What's the whole deal with that? I heard that it just kinda messes with a monster's brain while zapping them or something."

"That's more or less the consensus. In actuality though, those are separate components. The element itself is like electricity mixed with fire. Both very painful on their own, but together, they're even worse. Not many monsters can resist something like that, so it's usually a good element to fall back on if you don't have anything else. The 'high intelligence' thing only really applies to elder dragons, and Guild researchers only uncovered how it does that recently. I believe they officially refer to the property as 'elderseal', as it literally seals off some of an elder dragon's abilities if enough is applied. By their words, it 'sets a mental blockage'. It certainly goes hand-in-hand with what historians say about the weapons forged during the Great Dragon War. So, they're decent enough against most everything, and against elder dragons they are top-notch."

"Huh, well that's pretty cool! Wish I'd had these when I met Tempest…"

"Speaking of… I think you'd appreciate knowing ahead of time that Zeke is on his way to Ran Fos as well."

"Really?! Well dang, what's the occasion? Did I forget an anniversary or something?"

"No, no, it's… well, let's just say Zeke hasn't really changed much. Can you keep a secret?"

"I can count the number of people I won't keep secrets from on three fingers."

"…That doesn't really—"

"Yes, I can keep a secret! Now tellmetellmetellme!"

"Gods, I'd nearly forgotten how sporadic you can be… Zeke apparently has information on Tempest. It'll be coming to an area in the Everwood not far from Ran Fos, and he wants to use that chance to hunt it down with the rest of the Faces."

"Hunt… Tempest?" Mila repeated slowly after a moment, setting Rise and Ruin back into their case and lowering herself into her seat as she took in the lancer's words. "I heard you right, right?"

"Trust me, I was as shocked as you. Zeke's always been a glory hound, but setting his sights on a named elder dragon is  _insane_ , even for him. Honestly I was thinking about talking him out of…"

Mila half-consciously tuned the lancer out as that news baked in her head. Tempest, a Kushala Daora of incredible power and ferocity. The very same dragon she'd encountered no less than twice during her five-year career, and on both occasions she'd been forced to flee for her life. Those brief encounters had taught her just how strong it was. Its winds could completely alter the weather, its steel scale hide was hard enough to deflect most blades and bullets with hardly a scratch… and its speed was impressive even by  _her_ standards. She'd only managed to wound it a single time, which had required the first-time burst of her signature Hunter Art, Lunar Star Slash, to do. The dragon bore a cross-shaped scar across its face ever since—Kushala Daoras shed their scales frequently to prevent their bodies from rusting over, but according to all the reports she'd heard on it over the years, that wound remained even still. Based on their second encounter, Tempest very clearly remembered that Mila was the one who did it.

She still remembered that meeting clear as day. She and her partner at the time, a gunner by the name of Devon, had been trudging back to base camp after a long hunt to curb an explosion in the Khezu population that had been threatening the Frozen Seaway's ecosystem. Their surroundings masked by a fierce blizzard that had blown in after they arrived on the grounds, legs buried up to their knees in thick snow… had it not been for a hot drink and the added layers of Popo fur she'd packed into her armor she probably wouldn't have even been able to make it up the mountain, it was so cold. As they fought through the storm, though, a focused squall swept through the area, far more powerful than any of the natural winds of that snowy mountain. An explosion of air blew the blizzard away from the area entirely, exposing blue skies and sunlight to what was once as dark as late evening, sweeping away much of the snow like it was nothing more than dust.

And there, standing across from them in the midst of that snow-covered field, was the shimmering, silvery body of Tempest, the only imperfection across its whole body being the dark grey cross between its eyes, stretching from the sides of its snout back to the slightly curved horns on its head. Blue eyes as piercing as the very skies it had just revealed as if on a whim, towering yards and yards above her head… and the  _presence_ she felt through her Awareness was practically stifling! Tempest was a ferocious as it was beautiful. The sight of it alone made her breath catch in her throat.

At the time, the newly-promoted high rank huntress wasn't entirely sure why she even drew her swords. Maybe she'd thought she could wound it as she had before to cover their retreat, or perhaps she even felt she was skilled enough to drive it off. Fortunately for her, her sensibilities kicked in after her blades had uselessly clashed off its hide the first time, and she'd narrowly avoided a blast of wind powerful enough to cause an avalanche off the cliff far behind her. She knew that was a fight she couldn't win. Fortunately Devon had taken advantage of the brief distraction she had made to turn tail and run—that encounter alone scared him thoroughly enough to make him quit hunting altogether. Mila didn't exactly blame him. Most would consider it a blessing to have survived an encounter like that at all.

Two times now she'd miraculously escaped encounters with one of the most powerful known elder dragons in the country, encounters that had should have thoroughly convinced her it would be smarter to stay as far away from that dragon as possible…

Yet, here she was, her heartbeat quickening, her blood was chilling, and a tense excitement was building up within her. The thought of facing Tempest down again was  _thrilling._ She wasn't sure what it was, but she  _wanted_ to fight it again, for real this time. Mila had always come back to challenge monsters that forced her to flee before, to prove to herself that she could overcome them somehow, in some way. Tempest was so far the sole exception… and oddly, she wasn't seeking to prove anything to herself by fighting it again. She didn't quite understand where this incredible desire to cross her blades with its talons came from, but it burned within her even fiercer than the legendary dragon fire forges of Harth.

"...Uh, Mila? You listening?"

"Mm? Oh! Sorry, just got wrapped up in some old memories. So, uh... right! Zeke's on the way too?"

"Yeah, and if luck was on his side he'll be bringing Alastor along too."

"Ooh, Alastor too?" Mila's expression lit up with a wide grin at the mention of the charge blade user's name.

She and Alastor had actually been paired up during the doubles portion of their Hunter's Exam in Loc Lac five years prior, and while that had interfered with a little wager they had going between them, it was without a doubt the best showing of the entire event. Even if it was  _just_ a Daimyo Hermitaur they had fought, the way they had just perfectly synced up their movements and attack patterns, relentlessly battering the large Carapaceon with a combined assault as if they were one mind in two bodies... and after a particularly high-flying stunt she had performed to deliver the coup de grâce went slightly awry, he'd managed to catch her right out of the air! The bright desert sunlight gleaming heroically off of his metallic mask, the wind dramatically tousling his long scarlet hair... It was literally  _the_ most romantic thing  _ever,_  with a capital 'R'! That memory made her swoon every time she recalled it. Now if only she knew what he looked like without the mask. And if he would just respond to her letters more often than once in a blue moon. Seriously, that was about the only thing keeping her from the storybook romance with a mysterious masked badass hero guy that she had always not-so-secretly wanted.

"This party is really shaping up, isn't it?" she giggled mischievously, a light blush illuminating her cheeks. "Come to think of it, this'll be the first time we've all gotten together as a team! Oh man, this is gonna be  _legendary!"_

"Well, at least one of us has high hopes," Lowell chuckled. "Having two dragon element weapons will at least help even the odds a little,  _if_ we actually do encounter Tempest. Ancient Civ weapons aren't referred to as 'dragonslayers' without reason."

"Yeah, but like... couldn't those Guild nerds have thought of something a  _little_  more original than 'elderseal'? That's literally just… what it does. It's like calling a sword 'stabby slashy'."

"Well, we can't all have your talent for conjuring up names, Mila. But who knows? Maybe you'll get a chance to name something like it in the future."

"Now there's an idea! Man, you are  _really_ moving up on my good list today, you know that?"

"Gotta make up for lost time," Lowell grinned. "I don't leave Ancile too often these days, so why not leave an impression on the lovely Blade Princess while I'm here?"

"Oho! Consider me impressed," she winked with a slight blush, pushing herself up and cocking her head towards the hall. "But you can keep impressing me tomorrow when we go on that quest with Maki and Iggy. How about we get you back to the inn now?" She paused for a brief moment when Lowell raised an eyebrow at her. She then recalled her relative state of undress, glancing down at herself to both appreciate her shapely figure and to let out a short laugh. "Oh right, underwear probably isn't the best for walking around out in the rain, huh? Lemme change into something a little better first, and then we can get moving! Just gimme like… twenty minutes."

"Heh, yeah, no prob—" The lancer's smile faltered and was replaced with a confused expression, then he balked and stepped forwards. "Wait, twenty  _minutes?_ Why do you need that long just to put something on over that?"

She spared a short glance down at the two blades she had once again grabbed, smiled cheerfully, then looked back up at him.

"No reason."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Please review! Sorry this chapter took so long to post. I... honestly completely forgot about this site. I'll be double posting chapters to catch up to where I'm at on FF.
> 
> I've been having a lot of fun coming up with the side characters for this story, to be honest. In the past I just kinda threw a name onto someone wearing an armor set and left it at that, while a couple ended up getting fleshed out a bit further. This time around, I've put a LOT more effort into these side characters to make them all stand out a bit more. I feel like it'll help flesh out the world a lot better, and make the cast overall more personable. So, faithful reader, who's your favorite so far?
> 
> I'm still having a lot of fun with the Kitchen arc here... like, just based on the games it really shouldn't be so big of a deal, but writing about something in a universe where there are actual ramifications just makes it seem like Serious Business. At least our short little friend is getting closer to the end of this investigation.
> 
> ...Or is he? Muhaha.
> 
> I also am really enjoying the conversations that occur between the Faces. I'm kinda modelling them off of the Supplementary Chapters I wrote for TMC, which were in turn based off of support conversations from Fire Emblem. I think it's a fun way to expand on the characters by delving into their history, allowing me to tell a story both in the past AND in the now while moving forwards with the character relationships now. Backstory details like Alastor and Mila's team-up during the Hunter's Exam wouldn't really be relevant otherwise, but it adds a bit of history to the characters AND hints at more stuff down the line. I don't know about you all, but I love me some foreshadowing.
> 
> Anywho, that about does it from me! Remember to leave a review down below so I can see what you liked or disliked, or hell, if you just wanna make a comment about something or ask a question, go right ahead! honestly I think a comment or two might inspire me to write more! ...or, y'know, remind me to not forget about an entire website. Till next time, faithful readers!


	9. Rebound

Mid-afternoon at the southern Guild gate. Half-eaten sandwich to his left, full coffee mug to his right, and between both, all the notes he'd compiled on the five individuals Jim had told him about a couple days before. Information gleaned from dossiers and interrogations, all combined with the hearsay they learned from those interviewed at the eastern gate. There must've been more than twenty pages total there.

And yet, Corvus' frustrations had only grown over the last few days.

 _Nothing_ stood out. Literally the only thing they had on Kilroy was that the stamp was his—no evidence that he'd been the one using it, and certainly no motive either. The Governor was literally  _spotless_. Uther hadn't even been in town, having been sent off by Kilroy weeks before this debacle even started to use up the vacation days he'd amassed over the last ten years. Shelly and Shelby, one of whom was the girl Corvus had flirted with and who he could no longer tell apart from her identical sibling, had the most concrete testimonies of the bunch since they always had an officer accompany them into Governor's chambers (apparently they'd worked for a weird boss before and didn't want anything happening). That left Edison, who despite being incredibly shady, lacking a solid alibi, and trying to dodge questions near-constantly, ultimately ended up being guilty only of stealing pens off of his colleagues' desks to horde in one of his drawers. Klept-OCD, he called it.

So he was left with literally nothing to go off of. He'd insisted to the others that these were good leads, so all the time they could have spent looking for previous employees was spent here instead. Wasting time. They barely had time as it was! The culprit was probably nearly done preparing to smuggle the zenni they'd scammed out of the city's population as he sat here scarfing down a sandwich and looking at several days' worth of unnecessary hand cramps in written form, trying to find  _anything_ that stood out to him.

He glanced up towards the wall—five o'clock. The others would be coming back in soon. Dominic had at least taken the precaution of drawing up the names of previous east gate employees, but he and Ricard both insisted Corvus stay behind while they went and asked questions. 'Look over the notes,' they'd said. 'Maybe there's something you missed,' they'd said. It was apparent based on their tones alone that, especially after he nearly went out and brought Kilroy in for questioning, they just thought he'd somehow do more damage.

 _Like there were any OTHER leads in the first place,_ he thought, scowling angrily as he flipped through the pages for what felt like the hundredth time while taking a vicious bite of his sandwich. Maybe it was one of the previous Governors after all? Or a vice-head of the Guild gate? Someone pissed about the current management and who wanted to make them look bad… and enrich their bank account in the process. That made sense, right? It  _had_ to be someone important, someone big, or someone who  _wanted_ to be either of those things. Had their plan been executed better they very well could have trashed the Guild's reputation!

And yet, they didn't. They hadn't tried to move the funds through the Guild's channels—all the numbers checked out. The upper parts of the management were all completely innocent, and still appeared as such to the average Joe. The lower branches were  _also_ devoid of suspicion. Dominic had even suggested they try and trace the wax used for the seals, only for them to learn at Fischer and Company that the last 'big' purchases that could have come close to meeting that quota was an order six months back from the Guild post office in Grunhill, and a more recent order from the Ran Fos Guild itself. Except, the Guild's supply from that order was pretty much still in the packaging. That just completely flew in the face of all the evidence they had so far! It made no sense!

Finishing his late lunch and slamming his cooled coffee down in a few quick gulps, the surveyor sat back in his seat, running his hands through his hair with a long sigh. It'd been weeks of non-stop working on this case, and here he was, feeling as though he'd completely run himself into a wall. Him, an Adler! This wasn't supposed to happen to him! He was supposed to solve his first big case in grandiose fashion, unearthing a big conspiracy and proving to everyone around here that  _he_ was special! This was supposed to be his chance to show everyone else around here that even though he was so much younger than they were, he was every bit as capable as them, if not more! But this? This was not how things were meant to go.

He grumbled in irritation and glanced around the room, seeing the other surveyors working at their own desks or otherwise going about their business. Chances were the other more experienced ones had dealt with similar cases before, right? Asking for advice might not have been such a bad idea... but Corvus shook his head at the thought. An Adler didn't  _need_ to ask for help. His pride wouldn't let him.

As his gaze trailed around the room though, he saw the door to the captain's office open, and Viper stepped into the main room. Oddly, his normally relaxed expression was hidden behind a concerned scowl. He briskly strode across the room to the desk of one of the senior-level surveyors, a black-haired fellow by the name of Leonard. The two exchanged words for a few minutes, and the surveyor's face paled somewhat, only for him to push himself up the moment their conversation ended and begin heading for the exit. Corvus raised an eyebrow at that; what happened to make Leonard rush off like that?

Corvus found that he didn't have much time to ponder that as Viper next strode to his desk, rapping his knuckles sharply on the corner and signaling for him to follow along. He swallowed hard, expecting a reprimand or a sharp critique on the horizon… he'd already heard quite a few 'you messed up' talks through the walls, considering they were a lot louder than the 'congratulations' speeches. But, he wasn't in much position to dawdle, so Corvus followed after the man. He carefully pulled the door shut behind him as the captain settled into his desk.

"So, I've heard you and the others have run into a bit of a roadblock on this whole voucher thing," Viper began, earning a dejected huff from the young surveyor. "How are you faring?"

"Oh, y'know, just dandy. No leads, no suspects, no time—"

"I didn't ask about the case, kid. I asked how  _you_ were faring. I didn't know when I first assigned you to these voucher investigations that it'd turn out to be much bigger than a simple get-rich scheme. Not exactly the biggest case we've ever seen, but still. I'd have preferred to keep you working the small things for a while, build up more experience, but… well, here we are."

Corvus simply sighed and shook his head, walking off a few paces to the side and folding his arms. "I know for a fact that I've given it everything I've got. I  _know_ I'm putting the work in. I  _feel_ like I'm doing everything right. But it just… ugh, it makes no sense! Shouldn't the solution have presented itself by now?! It did with the Ludroth case, and you said it yourself—that was something you'd normally reserve for trained surveyors! I could solve  _that,_ an illegal monster breeding ring, but not this stupid meal ticket nonsense?!"

"Not every case is cut and dry. I'd even argue that the reason you managed to handle the breeding ring was specifically because of the added pressure. You performed better because you  _had_ to. If you didn't step up then, that meant people might get hurt or worse. You were thinking about  _them_ , not  _you._ "

"I… suppose." Where was he going with this? Viper usually let out one or two curses by this point from what Corvus knew. Now he was just melancholy.

"Here's what I think, little bud. You're worrying too much about yourself and not enough about the real reason surveyors do what they do. That little stunt with trying to bring Kilroy in like a common thug is proof enough of that. You're getting so caught up in this big delusion of grandeur that you're forgetting your station, and that'll reflect badly on all of us. I don't need my surveyors doing that, and the  _Guild_ doesn't need that kind of publicity either."

"Uh… where is this going…?"

"Not nearly as badly as you're probably thinking. I know that you're better than this, Corvus, but your stubborn pride is really getting in the way here. You're making this case out to be something bigger than it actually is, and it's clouding your judgement. Plus, you've really done a number on the breakroom coffee maker. So I'm sending you home early. Get some rest, spend some time with Wes and Mila, reevaluate  _why_  you became a surveyor, and get back to it with a fresh mind tomorrow."

"I don't need to spend  _any_ time with  _him_ —"

"You've spoken with me more in the last month than you have your own father. Would it kill you to drop the attitude for once and just have a casual chat with the guy? I think you need it as much as he does... and that's saying something."

"Look boss, let's keep work and home life separate, alright?" the surveyor scowled, folding his arms while glaring pointedly at the floor. Viper groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, letting one of his arms thump onto the desk before him.

"I'm not arguing about this. I've got enough on my plate with this whole Demitri mess as-is, so you go get your head in the game, and get this case  _solved._ If not, I'll punt you off the squad and find someone else who will."

"A-alright… but what's the problem with Demitri? I thought he had a long assignment in Mistwood or something."

"The problem is that I  _don't know._  But, that's for me to worry about. You're off the clock for the rest of the day, so get on out of here."

Corvus reluctantly nodded, and with a short sigh he departed the captain's office. He could practically feel the eyes of the other surveyors on him, lingering only a moment too long, as he walked back to his desk and began to pull his things together. He wasn't particularly angry or upset about this—in all honesty he'd anticipated far worse—but Viper's words did still leave him feeling like there was a pit in his stomach. Maybe taking a step away from all this for night was what he needed…

* * *

Rain pattered heavily against the roof of the Adler's home, filling each room with a steady unending drone. Some might find that kind of noise soothing, others, annoying. Wes had decided a short number of years ago that the sound of rain against the windows of an empty house was nothing less than haunting, and thus, did his best to keep it out of mind. He had some time before he had to head over to the Eagle's Perch for the late night shift, so he instead had busied himself with the housework that had piled up over the last few days. Dishes needed to be done, floors needed cleaning, mail needed to be sorted, bills and taxes paid, putting away decorations from the last holiday season. The average life was considerably more droll than the life of a hunter, but Wes had long since reconciled that fact. Only occasionally did he feel the call to return to the hunting grounds.

That call was never more powerful than it was whenever he came across the twin blades he kept stored away in a trunk in the attic. With a low sigh the silver-haired man gazed down at the white falchions lying parallel in their case. Cryfder and Datrys, the blades his father York had made for him so long ago, and which he had wielded up until his last day as a hunter. The strange properties of the blades kept them in pristine condition despite years of going unused, though the leather wrapped grips and recurved silver metal guards certainly showed their age.

A moment of hesitation, and he lifted his hand towards one of the blades. They seemed to glow slightly brighter as his palm neared the grip, wrapping a mystical white aura around the falchions' edges. His hand paused in midair before his fingers fully wrapped around the grip, though. As he stared intently at the blades, his mind played back his past battles with them. As each fight played through in his mind, the rain outside seemed to fall harder and harder against the windows, up until it was a nearly deafening cascade. Then—

_You've done enough! Now fall back before you keel over!_

_Not… not yet…! Not while she's still…_

Wes shuddered, shaking his head clear and forcing his hand away from the blades. He knew it was all just a trick of his mind—the rain outside fell just as it had before, flowing down the glass panes like clear streams. He abruptly shut the case and put it back into its place atop a few crates holding decorations, sighing as he stepped down the ladder out of the attic and went downstairs into the living room. He crouched low by the fireplace and tossed a couple logs in from the stack off to the side, thinking some light and warmth might help keep the darker thoughts out of his head.

He dropped into the seat behind him after striking up a roaring, crackling fire, picking up a book he'd mostly finished from the small table beside him to wile away the time until he had to head out. After only two or three pages, however, he heard the front door open, and a pair of boots step into the foyer. Obviously it wasn't Mila—her Aura was unmistakable, and she always announced her return very,  _very_  loudly. But it was awfully early for Corvus to be home, wasn't it?

He turned his head as the owner of the footsteps came into view, and sure enough there stood his son, wearing a sour expression while he grumbled under his breath about something. His eyes briefly glanced towards Wes, only to dart elsewhere the second their gazes met.

"Welcome home, kiddo. You get off work early today?" he asked, closing the book and sitting up from his reclined position. Corvus huffed and shook his head.

"Something like that. Where's Mila?"

The response was as short and curt as most had been for the last few years, but it still didn't fail to make Wes' expression darken. "She left on a quest with Falia and that Lowell guy earlier. Local gig, so she should be rolling back in soon enough. How's the voucher investigation coming along? Mila told me you were making good headway on it, but… well, you know how she is. The story was jumbled."

"It's going  _fine._ Viper just thought I needed a break because I was working too hard."

"Really? Despite appearances the guy likes to run a tight ship, so that's kinda surprising. Want to talk about the case? or... is it confidential?"

"Confidential." Corvus abruptly turned and began to head towards the stairs, choosing to again cut the conversation short. "I'm going to draw for a while. Don't bug me unless the house is burning down."

"Alright," Wes sighed dejectedly. "You got a letter from one of your friends, by the way. I left it on your nightstand."

"Thanks."

"And do you mind cleaning your room up a little? I nearly killed myself on one of those cardstock tube things again."

Corvus just muttered something unintelligible under his breath as he went out of sight, leaving Wes to frown and just sink back into his seat, opening the book again but only half paying attention to the words. Wes knew why his son acted so curt and distant. He'd acted that way ever since Sabrina's passing, which by no means was something easily forgotten by anyone in the family. It had been nearly ten years since then though, yet Corvus still blamed him for what happened. And they said time cured all wounds… not that Wes himself had any room to judge.

He didn't think Corvus' attitude wasn't justified, but Wes simply wished he could get through to him again. He knew it wasn't impossible—over the years they still shared a few moments of closeness—but that didn't mean it would be easy. He'd tried and tried, but at some point he'd been forced to accept that there wasn't really much he could do if his son kept shutting him out. He understood that… but as a father, nothing caused him more unease. He wondered if this feeling was at all similar to how his old friend Ruby felt, not even knowing what had become of her own son when he suddenly disappeared many years ago, with her unable to search for him and only fleeting rumors for her to keep hoping that he was alright.

"Never gets any easier for us, does it…" he muttered, resting his head on his hand as he stared blankly at the pages before him, too lost in thought now to even pay attention to them anymore. Nearly a half hour passed like that, occupied only by the sound of rain on the windows, the burning wood crackling in the fireplace, and the occasional page turning, until a familiar 'buzz' filled Wes' ears, making him glance up and look around. Moments later, he heard the front door thrown open like it had been kicked in, and—

"Mila's back, baby!" the huntress' voice called from the front, followed closely by the door slamming shut behind her. Wes hadn't even closed the book before Mila had rushed into the living room and slid to a halt, garbed in her green Battle armor and nearly knocking a small table over when the sheath of her Devil Slicer longsword 'Raiden' clipped one of the legs. Her eyes immediately darted towards him, and a broad grin split her lips. She then dramatically swept her arm through the air to hold out her hand towards him. "And there's the best dad in the history of dads! Come on over here so I can hug ya!"

"Looks like someone's in a good mood," Wes smirked as he pushed himself up and walked over to her, grunting lightly when she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace that thoroughly soaked his shirt from all the rainwater she was still drenched in.

"I'm always in a good mood! Especially when you're around!" Mila laughed cheerfully, letting go of her embrace and standing up tall with an excited gleam i her eyes. "But you shoulda seen me out there! We really gave that Malfestio a walloping before we captured it! Lowell and I did this really cool team trick too, where I jumped off his shield and—"

"Little Bird, maybe you could change into something dry before getting into this story? I did just clean the floors."

"Muh? Oh! You did! Dang, they look great! Sorry, just gimme like thirty seconds!"

She bolted up the stairs and out of sight in no time flat, earning an amused chuckle from her father as the accompanying rush of wind lifted some papers and even stoked the fire a little. It was hard to believe even now that Mila was the same girl who had once been so sickly that she couldn't even leave the house on her own most days. Back then she had been so small and fragile… not to mention ill. Paying for all the medicine she needed had taken up the bulk of his earnings as a hunter, and following the Venetorian market crash and the annexation, earning a living became significantly more difficult. Thankfully due to Sabrina's art career helping out their earnings the Adlers had managed all the way up until Mila's Aura Sense manifested.

Her 'Ward' ability really came in handy, apparently being able to keep her protected from most of the viruses that had been making her sick… but she'd also developed her 'Awareness' then too, which brought a whole new host of problems. The amount of information she had to process completely overwhelmed her, making it horribly taxing to do much of anything for a while. Worst of all, she could hardly sleep due to feeling every movement within the ability's range, which took a toll on her health nearly as bad as years of constant sickness had. The only times she'd fallen asleep that wasn't due to complete fatigue was when he sang her a lullaby he'd written in an effort to comfort her. Despite all the hardship, looking back on those days filled him with such a sense of nostalgia and pride…

Mila descended the staircase in her casual attire with a wide smirk, once again reminding Wes that all the hardship had made his Little Bird grow into a strong, beautiful young woman who was more than capable of handling herself now. That she'd come so far made him the happiest he could ever be, and quite sad at the same time.

"So, I noticed Corvus is home early," she said as she stepped onto the landing. "He doing alright?"

"He said Viper let him off early today, but that's about all I got out of him. You know how he is."

Mila made a pouty face while he shrugged with a disheartened sigh. She planted a hand on his shoulder and shook him lightly, then giggled and shot him a reassuring smile.

"How about I talk with him again? He's a tough egg to crack, sure, but he listens to me."

"Maybe… but still, it's not like he doesn't have good reason. Really, I get it. He's still hurting. We both are. I'd rather him come around when he's most comfortable doing so, instead of forcing the wedge in further by accident."

"Hmm… well, alright, if you say so. But enough about that dreary sad time stuff! I've gotta tell you all about that Malfestio hunt!"

"Hah, alright, I've got some time before I have to get to the Perch. Didn't bring the others along to help tell it though, huh?"

"Nah, Falia's getting her quest book sorted and Lowell wanted to pay old Stonewall a visit while he's in town," Mila explained as she stepped past him and plopped down onto the couch and kicked her feet up. "Oh, speaking of, did I ever tell you that Geralt actually trained Lowell personally?!"

"You don't say? Guess I shouldn't be surprised," Wes replied, sitting back down in his chair opposite his daughter. Stonewall Geralt was one of the two local G Rank hunters in Ran Fos who, after the complete annihilation of his hometown, had made it his goal to spread the way of the Tanzian lance across the country. Some say that the only reason he chose to stay in the rainy city was because the Tanzian Grillmaster's top protégé had set up shop here. "It's still weird to think how few G-class hunters there are these days. They were practically a dime a dozen when I was still hunting."

"Yeah, and I'll bet most of 'em were a buncha pansies compared to the high rank hunters of today," Mila stated with a smug grin, to which Wes only rolled his eyes.

"I'll admit, looking back at it the old system was unbalanced. Monsters were called G-level threats that really weren't deserving of the moniker, so hunters got the titles they didn't deserve either. Then when the Guild began to learn what  _real_ threats looked like… well, it's good that they changed things. Otherwise there'd be a lot more kids running around armed with false bravado getting themselves killed.  _BUT,_ don't you go getting a swollen head just because your regulations are harsher than mine were. I come from a  _simpler_  time, not an  _easier_  time."

"Heheh, I know, I know! I'm only as great as I am because of you, so howzabout we just say all the cool stuff I do reflects on how awesome you are? Like the sick shield jump kick Lowell and I did earlier! Ohh, and guess what? I managed to stick a  _quadruple_ somersault! Falia gave me a nine outta ten on the landing… but I know she really thought it was a ten."

"Uh huh… and how exactly did that help you on the hunt?"

"Oh, it didn't at all. It was completely unnecessary, but  _man_ was it cool! Oh oh, but that reminds me of the hunt Iggy and Maki helped out with! So we were going after this Duramboros, and I kid you not it was like a bajillion feet tall, but that didn't stop Maki from…"

Wes simply smiled and chuckled as Mila's tales quickly began to jump around from one hunt to another, some of which he'd heard before, others that were entirely new. Each one was spoken with the same boundless excitement and bright-eyed wonder as the very first one she'd ever told five years ago, and they never ceased to entertain. Still, though, the stories whittled the time away far faster than either had really anticipated, and soon the clock over the fireplace was ringing that it was a quarter till eight.

"Aw man, and I was  _just_ getting to the good part too!" Mila pouted, folding her arms and sighing as he stood up. She smiled a second later though. "Guess I'll just have to finish telling you when you get back!"

"Maybe then you can actually get around to telling me about that Malfestio," Wes smirked, earning a slightly-embarrassed laugh from his daughter when she realized just how far off the original topic she had strayed. He made his way towards the front hall to pull on his boots and coat, glancing over his shoulder as he heard her stand up as well. "It'll be a late night for me though, so don't stay up too late on my account."

"I'll try not to! Course, I do have to polish my swords, clean my armor, color coordinate my item box, start on that language book… ooh, and read through that big ol' pile of letters too.  _Sooo_ much fan mail. I'll bet there's like… at least half a dozen marriage proposals."

"Well, just don't go running off to marry anyone without at least letting me know first."

"Considering you're the best role model I have to go off of for that… no promises," she teased, playfully sticking her tongue out at him. Mila then pushed off the wall she'd been leaning against and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before shooing him out the door. "Now get on going, Daddy-o! Won't do ya any good to be late! Cook up a storm!"

"I'll bring back some leftovers," Wes replied with a short laugh, giving her a short wave before heading down the street towards the tavern. He couldn't help but smile—how he was lucky enough to have such great kids, he'd never know.

* * *

_Corvus,_

_How are things? Been a while since we talked! Probably because I've been scrambling across western Maglea faster than a Valstrax hopped up on exciteshrooms, but you know how it is with my research! I've gotten all the stuff I need for my next few experiments, so I'm finally back in Ran Fos. Come on by my workshop and visit sometime! I've got the camera you loaned me here still, and I did take plenty of pictures while I was running around. Who knows, maybe you can use a couple for your drawings! Oh, and I've also started working on a little something for Jeopardy if you're willing to give it a shot! In any case, you know where to find me._

_Isaac_

The surveyor sighed as he dropped the letter down on top of the scratched-out sketch he'd been working on. His hand just wasn't guiding his pencil right today it seemed… he'd had to scrap no less than four attempts already, putting two hours down the drain. He could visualize what he wanted to draw, yet putting it onto paper the way he wanted was far more of a struggle than he'd been anticipating.

"Gotta practice realism more… been drawing too many cartoons lately," he muttered, resting his chin on his hand while tapping the fingers of his free hand on the page. Maybe he was out of practice… but he also couldn't get this voucher mess out of his head. Viper's words still lingered in his mind, to 'reevaluate why he became a surveyor'. Corvus  _knew_ why he did—to help people and live up to his family name. What was wrong with that?

Whatever the answer to that was, it was eluding him. The further it eluded him, the more frustrated he became. And the more frustrated he became… well, Mila always put it aptly in their sparring sessions; he got sloppy. That in mind, he once again took a deep breath and attempted to clear his thoughts, to focus on what Viper said. That he was forgetting his station, making the case something larger than it was…

"Wait, bigger than it is…" the surveyor mused, furrowing his brow. After a moment though, he sighed in frustration, letting his head thump on the desk in front of him. Clearing his mind was not a simple matter. He felt like that phrase was important, but  _how?_ After a few more moments, the surveyor let out a groan of defeat, abruptly stood up, and left his room, making his way over to the slightly-ajar door of his sister before sharply knocking on the frame. "Hey, sis! Mind if I come in? Gotta bounce a couple thoughts off of you, and I'd prefer to know that you aren't naked first."

"Door's open, so clothes are on!"

At her reply Corvus pushed into the huntress' room, raising his eyebrow when his gaze landed on her lying in bed reading a rather thick and dusty old book, which was rather strange. Most of the books she read were barely even half that size, and none ever looked like tomes.

"Uh… whatcha got there?"

"I'm trying to learn the Ancient Civilization's language," she explained, holding the book up for him to see the faded cover better, and after a moment he discerned that the title read 'Learning Language 101: Ancient Civilization for Dummies'.

"Uh huh… and why the sudden interest? Trying to impress Lowell?"

"Nah—well, okay, the stuff he mentioned was super cool and he's  _definitely_ got style, but that's not actually the reason. See, earlier Falia and I were talking about what we wanted to do when the next seasonal festival happens, and she said that apparently, there are people you can pay to  _look into your mind_."

"Oh geez…" he muttered, though quietly enough that Mila seemed not to hear him, so she continued.

"And that freaked me the heck out! Like, sure, the ones at the festivals are all just paid entertainment, but then Falia told me about the  _unpaid_ ones! The kind that just looks because they  _can,_ not because they  _should_! Those have to be the worst kind of people, cuz how do you even defend against mind reading? You can't! You have no way of doing it if they don't let you know, and they could be doing it anytime, anywhere!"

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"I was getting there! See, a mind reader can only understand my thoughts if they know the language I'm thinking in. So, my solution is to learn this language and  _only think in it._ That way if they try to read my mind and they don't know An Civ, they won't be gettin' a thing outta my head! And who the heck WOULD know?! The language is as dead as the civilization! It's the perfect counter!"

"…Maybe just invest in a tinfoil hat."

"And cover up these gorgeous golden locks?! Nooooo thank you! Doin' the world a favor here!"

"Uh huh. Well, how about you do your brother a favor and help me figure something out."

"Need advice on how to ask out that red-head waitress gal? She has a thing for those Yukumese dumplings. Heard it straight from a friend of hers even."

"No, I… really? Huh. I know a place that sells really nice—wait, stop getting me off track! This is important!"

"Alright, then fire away," she insisted, closing the book while kicking her legs over the side of the bed to face towards him.

"Okay… so, I've been working with the other surveyors on that voucher case. We narrowed down our suspect list to the Governor's office, but beyond that we're stumped. Everyone has an alibi that checks out, and we've had unrestricted access to everybody's records. Nobody has been hired or let go within the last year. Long story short, someone in that building was taking the seal press, and whoever was doing it is probably still there, but none of the evidence is pointing towards anyone on the suspect list."

"Hmm… sounds like a pain in the butt. What if it's not someone working in the building though?"

"The others are looking into that, but I have a feeling it's someone on the inside. How else could they make thousands of these vouchers using a single press if they couldn't swipe the press and put it back into place without anyone realizing?"

"I dunno, maybe they have ninja training or something. And trust me, the stuff ninjas can do is just  _bonkers._ Especially the ninja Palicos! I'd have hired one of those adorable little butt-kickers years ago if you and Dad weren't allergic. But how many of those vouchers did you say there were? Thousands?"

"Yes, about ten-thousand total, probably more. Way too many for this to have been a short-term thing. They'd have to have been at it for months beforehand."

"That's a lot of time… and a  _ton_ of wax," Mila pondered, frowning and rubbing her chin in thought. "Like, a thousand of those little seals could probably be enough to make a statue out of, yeah? I wonder if I could get a sculpture of myself made… but what pose would I want it to be in? Something super cute obviously, but it'd have to be totally rad at the same time, like—"

"Mila, please focus. You can think about wax another… time…" Corvus paused contemplatively, glancing off to the side with a perplexed look. "Actually, that  _is_ a lot of wax… Too much wax.  _Way_ too much."

"Muh? I don't get it."

"We asked around at Fischer and Co. to trace any big orders that could have been used to make the vouchers, but… all the logs checked out. No other companies or individuals have gotten orders big enough to meet that demand, or even enough small orders to come close. We didn't have an afternoon to waste counting through all the boxes, and they're a Guild-supported company, so I didn't think much of it at the time… but all the wax  _had_ to have come from them. They handle everything of that sort in this part of the country."

"So… maybe one guy's just been saving up a bunch of wax for a long time? Or he had a bunch of friends order wax too so they could all cash in on a successful heist?"

"Or the wax company is in on it," Corvus stated confidently. "They're in tight with the Guild after all, and considering theirs isn't always the most lucrative of businesses, there's always room to make more money on the side… so what better way than to scam a bunch of hunters and sweep up the spare change?"

"That's… okay yeah, I'll be real with you, that theory sucks, li'l bro. You got anything more to back it up?"

"…No," he sighed, letting his shoulders sag. "The only way I could back that up is if I had a suspect I could link back to the company, and not a single man or woman in that gate's records has any ties to Fischer and Co."

"Aw, don't get so down, bro! Let's just run with this idea for a sec. So, no one on record has ties, you say? Well, what if… they don't have a record!"

"But that can't be the case for any employees! Everyone has records except for like... interns, I guess, but Kilroy's office doesn't have any interns," he frowned, eyes trailing up towards the book next to Mila's leg while his mind wandered from topic to topic, mulling over anything and everything just to try and draw SOME sort of conclusion. Wax statues, Yukumese dumplings, employee records, ninja Palicos, unpaid mind readers, a case he was treating too big-

"Wait. Too big. I'm thinking too big. That's what the captain told me, but... what if he meant I needed to aim  _smaller_? Aim for something smaller... without a record... that's unpaid... that would potentially give me a list of false names to.. throw me off his..." His voice trailed off again, only for his eyes to fully snap open in realization, and he turned hard to leave the room.

"Oh, that  _FUCKING_  cat!"

"Language!" Mila called after him, though his thoughts were already back on the case. He swiftly gathered up his sword and gun, then hurried down the stairs and began to pull his boots on, barely glancing up as Mila poked her head down the stairs to watch.

"And just where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"To solve this investigation," he replied while buckling the straps of his boots. "With any luck I won't be out long."

"Uh huh. Maybe I should come along, just to be safe. It's gettin' kinda late out there."

"No, Radiance would ruin any chance I have at tailing the suspect. You said it yourself—other races like Lynians have greater sensitivity to it."

"Eh… fair nuff. Try to be back before I decide to come and drag your butt back here myself though, capiche?"

"Hey, no worries; it's me!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Remember to leave a comment or review! I'll be brief with these notes since this chapter was posted like five minutes after the last one.
> 
> I think my main inspiration behind writing this chapter was, ironically, the sensation of writer's block. Like there's something you want to tell, and you can picture it, but putting it down into words is just out of reach. Then once you get over it, bam, the ball gets rolling! That's sort of the inspiration for the chapter title too. Hopefully all of that gets across well enough.
> 
> Also, Wes finally makes another appearance! Honestly, I hadn't originally planned this scene to be from his perspective, instead focusing more on Corvus, but I still don't really like doing scene transitions without using a different character's point of view, and as much as I love writing her I would prefer to be more scarce with Mila in this book for... various reasons.
> 
> I gotta say, I enjoy revisiting Wes' perspective a lot more than I did York's in my last book. Maybe it's just because I personally feel like Wes was a better-written character (which he absolutely was, 15-year-old Hawk had nothing on 17-21-year-old Hawk as a writer) but I just think I know him better as a character. And for the record, I'm not saying that because Wes is currently suffering from depression. Sad dad.
> 
> As for the gaming world, oh my GOD am I hyped for Iceborne! Nargacuga confirmed for World, an entire new area, a bunch of new monsters (so much so that it's being equated to an Ultimate release!)... I'll be honest, I've been sorta dropping off with my playtime in World lately, but this news made the future a lot brighter. I'm just hoping we get Barioth too... which is likely, considering it and Nargacuga share a skeleton. While that's still a ways off, I have Soul Calibur 6, Devil May Cry 5, and Smash Ultimate to keep me occupied. What do you all think of the new update that's coming, faithful readers? I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Anywho, that's all from me for this chapter! Hope you all have a great New Year! Till next time!


	10. Midnight Runner

Corvus huffed lightly from exhaustion as he knocked the bottom of his fist against the door to Isaac's workshop. The rain had started to fall a lot more harshly, making it even harder to see anything in the already-darkened streets. He tucked himself up against the wall underneath the small awning while he waited to keep as far out of the downpour as he could, though after a minute or two he growled in frustration, pounding on the door once more. He was just glad Ran Fos wasn't visited by cold rains at this time of year.

It wasn't until he was preparing to knock for the fourth time when the door at last swung open, flooding the inky-black streets with the light from within. A tall, wiry figure stood in the frame, the light at his back obscuring most of his features in shadow.

"Look, if you're here to complain I haven't even been making that much noise, so kindly—"

"'Bout time you opened up! I was starting to think you were just gonna let me drown out here."

The figure glanced to the side to catch sight of him, lifting a pair of orange-framed goggles to his brow. He blinked twice, letting his orange-and-brown eyes adjust before a wide grin split his lips.

"Ah, Corvus! Color me surprised! I was expecting you, but not quite this late! Usually the only ones who come by this hour are hecklers," Isaac laughed with a lax and easy-going tone, waving for the surveyor to enter. Corvus tried not to do so too quickly, though he did sigh in relief upon stepping out of the rain. The moment he inhaled, though, he found himself gagging on some kind of putrid, sulfuric stench in the air. "Oh, right, sorry! I was repairing my Transmuter, and I spilled some of the combination fluid. Melted a dent into the floor too! Maybe don't step in that."

"For the love of… you've been back for barely even a day and you're already burning this place down?" Corvus winced, holding a hand over his nose while glancing up towards his eccentric friend.

Isaac Dalton was a friend of Corvus' he had met back when his family first moved to Ran Fos several years ago. Unlike the short-and-somewhat stocky Corvus, Isaac was rather tall, and about as lanky as a hunter could probably be in this day and age. He had a round face perpetually reddened from the bridge of his nose down due to near-constantly wearing his orange goggles. His blonde hair stuck up and outwards like a pile of needles, almost like he'd been struck by lightning at some point… which Corvus wouldn't have been surprised to learn if he had, frankly. With all the random experiments and research he did for his Alchemy hunting style shenanigans, it was a surprise he didn't have a third arm or something. He was currently garbed in a brown leather work outfit with a pair of large, thick grey smithing gloves and an orange smithing apron, all of which was covered in soot marks and singes.

"A day? No, I've been here for nearly three weeks now! And I didn't  _burn_  it, I  _melted_  it. Fundamentally different chemical reactions, I assure you."

"Right… wait, three  _weeks_? I just got that letter you sent saying you were back today."

"Eheh… well, uh, I  _did_ write it when I returned, but then I lost it and got, ahem, distracted with a couple of my other projects. It fell out of my coat pocket earlier, so I thought I should just send it along. No harm done, right?" he grinned sheepishly, blinking twice as his gaze landed on the silvery badge pinned to Corvus' lapel. He lifted a finger and poked at it curiously. "Oh hey, that's new, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I got promoted a couple days after you left… but, can we  _not_ stand next to the smelly barrel while we have this chat?"

"Mm? Oh, right! Here, follow me into the back. Should probably turn on the vents so this can air out…"

Isaac stepped over towards the opposite wall, reaching over the medium-sized barrel device resting atop the heavy wooden table to turn on the overhead ventilation, filling the air with a loud humming sound as a fan began to cycle. That out of the way, Corvus followed after the tall hunter, taking extra caution to steer clear of the goopy black substance that was pooled on the floor by the table. On the table sat a large barrel device—among alchemists it was known as the Renkin Transmuter, a device that used a strange concoction to somehow transmute random items into hunting equipment. Corvus had no idea how the thing worked, and he wasn't sure anyone outside the Alchemy school did either. All he really knew was the end result of what it did, and what the general population called these things—Reekers, from the awful smell they gave off.

Trekking further into Isaac's workshop, Corvus was greeted with nothing short of the absolute disaster he had come to expect of his friend. Half-finished projects lay scattered around the whole place, along with tools, spare parts, random hunting supplies, parts to weapons, random magazines, crumpled wrappers, half-eaten plates of food… This workspace was the standard Corvus judged his own room's cleanliness against, and by comparison his was practically  _spotless._ Isaac at least had the decency to keep the back room he slept in mostly clean, so there was a place for them to sit and chat without the feeling of trash encroaching on him from every angle.

"So, what brings you around at this hour anyways?" the hunter asked, sliding down onto a metal stool while Corvus remained standing off to the side. "Wait, lemme guess—got kicked out of a girl's place after the guy you didn't know about came back, so you needed a place to hide out?"

"Ugh, I  _wish._ …Actually I don't. That would suck."

"Ah, so it was just another unsuccessful attempt then? My condolences."

"No, I wasn't— Why do you only think my flirting ends in failure?"

"Basic hypothesis borne from observation," Isaac shrugged, reaching for a half-full bottle of ale to drink from. "You  _say_ you succeed, but I've yet to see you actually do it."

"Because I try to make sure you're never around to see it! No offense Isaac, but you are  _not_  what I'd call the best wingman."

"None taken, I know I'm weird. But isn't running interference for you Mila's job?"

" _Anyways,_ I came by to ask a favor of you," Corvus said, changing the subject with an irate expression.

"At twelve-thirty at night?"

"We both know you never go to bed before three." The alchemist lifted a hand to protest for a moment, though he caught himself, glanced to the side, and after a moment of deliberation he shrugged and lowered his hand. "You still have the camera I loaned you? Didn't blow it up or irradiate it or something?"

"No and maybe. Since the report came out saying that the radioactivity has lowered to arguably tolerable levels, the western desert is ripe for researching!"

"Not inspiring confidence here."

"The camera is  _fine._ I've handled it several times since I returned and look, no mutations or strange growths! But if it makes you feel any better, I also did make sure to treat it with a few chemicals to ensure it was fully sanitized."

Corvus winced at his friend's words, letting them sink in for a moment or two before replying hesitantly. "It still  _works,_ right?"

"Of course! I made so many fascinating discoveries! So many photos, so many samples! You would not  _believe_ the stuff that underwent rapid evolutionary change over there. Those Gear monsters, oh man. Literal walking  _nightmares._  Oh, and there was this crazy plant that grew upside down and tried to eat Wataya alive _._ That one was weird."

"Right, that Shakalaka of yours. Where's he at, anyways?"

"Said something about a strip poker game, so I'll assume he's off trying to win another mask for his collection. You know how those little guys are."

"I… really don't."

"Well, you never were a fan of Lynians. Anywho, the camera."

"Right, right... You got the film roll out and everything? Good to return it?"

Isaac nodded affirmatively, nodding towards a black cycling door in the opposite corner of the room. "The negatives are all good, so I don't need to borrow it anymore. Just curious, whatcha need it for? Got a new project on the mind?"

"No, I'm working an investigation and I think the best way I'll be able to secure some evidence is by taking pictures. I'm also  _kinda_ in a hurry," he urged, leaning towards the hunter. Isaac caught on quickly, pushing himself up and walking into the dark room through the cycling door. He returned about a minute later holding the small wooden box device, holding it out towards the surveyor.

"I fitted a new roll in there, so you should be good to go! I don't mind if you need to use my darkroom either. Need any back-up on this investigation of yours though? Sounds kinda important."

"I appreciate it, but there's not much that needs doing. Just gotta snap a few pictures without being seen. It'll be easier if I'm on my own."

"Mm. Alright, in that case I won't keep you! Be sure to drop by again later though—I've got something cooking up for the old girl, and I think you might like to try it out," Isaac assured, folding his arms and shrugging. "And by 'like to try out' I mean 'I might need you and that Hyper arm of yours to actually test it in the first place if the recoil absorbing arm I made breaks down'."

Corvus sighed and rolled his eyes while fitting the camera into a pocket on the inside of his coat. "I don't get why you don't just make things scaled for regular guns, man. You'd be able to test it out for yourself,  _without_ breaking your arm from the recoil again."

"Apart from this just being more fun, Jeopardy is capable of handling so much more power! Really let's me see just how far I can go with some of my designs, y'know?"

"Which is exactly what gets you into trouble ninety percent of the time," Corvus stated matter-of-factly, to which Isaac on grinned and nodded.

"And trouble is what makes life interesting!"

Bidding his eccentric friend farewell, Corvus hurried down the street towards the western Guild gate, boots splashing through the puddles lining the path. He had to admit, the city felt completely different under the cover of darkness. During the day Ran Fos was just cramped and narrow at worst, but the bustling crowds and chatter made things feel lively and safe by comparison. Now, it was quiet and eerie, hardly anyone was out, and all the shadows and alleys just made him feel like he was being watched. To say nothing that was the endless expanse of black that the rain fell from…

Fortunately, it seemed that the worst the nighttime streets held for him was a spooky atmosphere. He arrived at the Guild gate about twenty minutes later, panting tiredly as he ducked around a corner and pulled the camera from his coat. If what that Felyne had said was true, he always ended up staying incredibly late finishing his duties… which left Jim as the perfect suspect for swiping the Governor's seal press. Chances were he wasn't going to be swiping the press now that the scam had been shut down, but there was still a chance he was reporting back to the ringleader. Corvus planned on having Jim lead him straight there.

As luck would have it for the young surveyor, the main entrance of the Guild gate swung open after about ten minutes, and the telltale figure of a Felyne pattered out wearing a cat-sized raincoat, hood drawn up and over his ears. The creature yawned and briefly scanned the area before turning and beginning to stroll on down the street towards the north. Once Jim's back was turned, Corvus snapped a picture of him leaving the gate, quietly hoping that he would get a decent shot with the light from the lampposts.

Despite the miserable weather, Corvus found himself once more thanking his lucky stars—the constant downpour was probably masking his scent and the sound of his footsteps from the Felyne, making it far easier to trail after him than it probably would have been on a clear night. Corvus just made sure to keep himself hidden from sight, as he was at least aware of the fact that Felynes had good night vision. Jim was also keeping an eye out it seemed—his head turned several times a minute, and occasionally he would glance back behind him, though fortunately Corvus was able to duck out of the way before he was spotted. Was he always this cautious, or had something tipped the Felyne off that he might be followed? Whatever it was, it didn't make trailing him easy.

After following for about fifteen minutes, Corvus realized the cat was leading him into the northwestern part of Ran Fos. Things were more industrial in this portion of the city, with most of the buildings being dedicated to larger businesses and companies rather than small-scale shops—the real attraction here was Yates' Airship Landing, which understandably saw more business than most of its neighbors and took up a solid section of the district to accommodate all the hangers and landing zones. Fischer and Co. was located a few blocks to the east of the airship company's property, which got Corvus' hopes up. The near-complete lack of residences also affirmed his suspicions that Jim likely wasn't heading towards his home.

Keeping a low profile did become somewhat more difficult upon entering the district, if only because of the few workers returning home from their late shifts. Though obviously hurrying to escape the rain, Corvus recognized that seeing a shady figure skulking about while obviously following after a Felyne might blow his cover, even despite his current attire lacking much Guild flare like his surveyor coat. Wearing a hood wasn't uncommon in this town, sure, but he still made it a point to just follow at a safe distance, keeping his eyes aimed ahead at the cat while coming across as just another individual at the end of a long work day. He kept a hand over his surveyor badge, acting like he was just holding his coat tighter around his shoulders.

Before long, Corvus at last found his suspicions confirmed—Jim had led him directly to the three-story warehouse out of which the Fischer and Co. Wax Company operated. He hastily snapped a picture as the Felyne opened the front door to head inside, making sure to get the well-lit company logo in the frame before doing so and once again praying that the light from the door and streets would be enough to appear on the film. He paused by an alley a short distance from the building, frowning in thought. He needed more evidence, but it was unlikely that he could just ask nicely for it…

The surveyor jumped with a start when he felt a hand roughly grasp his shoulder and pull him back towards an alley. He whirled around and threw the hand from his shoulder, expecting to see a thug or a thief or… well, a lot of things, but none of which ended up being the case.

"Ricard? What the hell are you—"

"Quiet, kid. Don't need you fudging this one up too," the older surveyor grunted quietly from beneath his own hood. Dominic stepped into view from around him, wearing a puzzled expression that likely matched Corvus' own.

"What are you doing out here, Corvus? Little late for a walk, isn't it?"

"I asked first—ugh, whatever. I figured out that the wax for all the seals wasn't accounted for, and that the Felyne I got those names from duped me to cover his tracks. So I tailed him, and here I am. What about you two?"

"Well, we followed up on that Felyne lead too, but we couldn't find the cat when we were searching since it wasn't time for his shift. Just learned that today was his last day at the gate. Thought we might pop over to the apartment the receptionist pointed us towards, but the cat was out. Did end up finding out who his roommate was though—former boxing champion, goes by the name Saiba. Turns out he'd been doing a  _lot_ of interviewing for a position at Fischer and Co. lately. So we searched their place while they were out, I did a little digging around, and found out that—"

"Yadayadayada, point is we followed our own lead and ended up here," Ricard interjected with a short harrumph. "We can fill in those details  _later._ Right now, we need into that building. Corvus, I'm giving you two options here—go home and keep out of our way, or do  _exactly_ what I tell you to do."

"And here I thought you hated me."

"I hate everybody that doesn't serve drinks. But after that stunt you tried to pull with Kilroy, I do not want to risk you running this investigation into the ground again."

"I think he's trying to say we'll be able to solve this case if we work together, but you need to follow our lead this time around," Dominic sighed. Ricard grumbled for a moment, but then nodded reluctantly. "Plus, if you even  _want_ to do anything else, you're kinda stuck with us."

"What do you mean?"

"I really doubt you got a fresh warrant from Captain Viper to search this place. Without the go-ahead, anything you found wouldn't count as legitimate evidence."

"…Dammit, can't believe I forgot about that… Alright, it's a deal. So what's the plan? Walk through the front door, demand all the evidence?"

"No, that'd be a terrible idea. They'd just try and stall us with cover stories until the evidence was hidden somewhere else," the older surveyor frowned. "We don't have enough concrete evidence to make any charges or arrests either. So, we're going to have to be quiet about this—get in, get some evidence, and get out."

"Wait, we can do that? I thought searches had to be announced."

"We did announce it. A week and a half ago. Never technically called it off. I distinctly remember saying 'we'll be back if we need anything else' too…"

"Huh. So we have a new warrant, but a technicality to fall back on. I think I might actually learn some things from you after all, old timer," Corvus chuckled, folding his arms and glancing towards Dominic. "So, we're sneaking in. Do we have any good points of entry?"

"Definitely not on the first floor. At least, none that would be easy or quiet. There is a fire escape in the back alley that leads to the upper floors though. Problem is, the ladder's drawn up out of reach. We could maybe reach it if Ricard would let me stand on his shoulders—"

"But I'm not a member of the bloody circus, so I'd prefer to not break my spine trying that."

"I could probably jump up to it," Corvus shrugged, earning raised eyebrows from the other two. "What? Haven't either of you heard of the kind of hops my sister can pull off? She and I are cut from the same cloth. This would be nothing for an Adler."

"Guess it's worth a shot," Dominic shrugged after he and Ricard shared a glance.

The trio carefully made their way through the alleys towards the long space behind the wax company building. Just as Dom had said, the ladder leading up to the lower platform was raised well out of arms' reach, maybe ten feet up, only really visible due to the single glowstone lamp hanging in the center of the alley. Taking a few steps back to get a running start, Corvus raced forwards and leapt up towards the side wall, kicking off the uneven brick surface to get a little more lift. He grabbed hold of the railing beside the ladder and stopped his momentum by planting his feet against the side of the platform, only causing a slight rattling throughout the structure that the rain would likely drown out to anyone inside. He carefully pulled himself over the slick bars and slowly began to lower the ladder down towards the other two, though only Ricard ascended up towards him.

"Dom's going to keep watch outside while we head in. Don't botch this up."

"What, not even gonna say 'nice jump'?"

"If you need to hear it, keep saying it to yourself."

With a roll of his eyes, Corvus cautiously ascended the fire escape past the door on the second floor and to the third floor with the older surveyor, frowning when he tried the door and found it locked. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that it was, but he'd been hoping for a lucky break… which just so happened to be the lockpicking kit Ricard had on him. He made it very clear that picking locks was tedious, but that doing it in the dark, and in the rain no less, was just the icing on the cake.

About half a minute passed before the lock clicked quietly, signaling to the surveyors that the entrance was open. Breathing a short sigh of relief Corvus quietly pulled the door open and slipped inside, greeted by a dark room full of unused equipment. From what he'd learned from his brief visit with the other surveyors prior, the company only really needed the lower two floors to operate, which left the third floor as mostly unused materials or storage. They'd checked the room some of the wax orders were kept in and found nothing out of sorts, and they hadn't a reason to be suspicious in the first place, so their search wasn't very extensive… now though, Corvus was fairly certain anything William Fischer or his business partners had to hide would be kept up here. Using the little light Ricard's lighter and pocket mirror cast to see, Corvus and Ricard crept about the upper floor, letting the steady drone of rain on the walls and roof mask any noise they couldn't hide themselves. They made sure to check all the unlocked rooms they could get into while Ricard picked his way into the ones that they at first couldn't, and while the first twenty minutes or so ended up fruitless, but Corvus could barely contain an excited laugh upon entering a room in the back corner of the floor.

They found a large printer, much like the rest of the ones used throughout the city, but with several boxes of voucher-like slips of paper in nearby boxes marked for disposal, as well as a huge number of empty ink bottles. Everything here could have been used to print out hundreds of vouchers in a single day.

Annoying that the letters don't match up with the vouchers," Ricard grumbled quietly. "Still, the ink in here isn't quite dry, and all these sheets match the ones used for the fakes. Definitely isn't a dusty old relic like they'd probably want us to think. Could just be here for company notices and the like, but we mighta just found our fake voucher maker."

Corvus snapped a picture of the printer, the sheets, and the bottles before they moved on. He agreed with the older surveyor that these were an incredibly good piece of evidence, easily the best ones they had found in over two weeks, but it wasn't concrete enough.

"What about Fischer's office?" Corvus asked as they searched the shelves of another room on the floor, keeping his voice as low as he could.

"What  _about_ Fischer's office?" Ricard grumbled in reply. "Guy makes sure he's the last one to leave the building every day. He's probably still in there, and considering all the clues Dominic and I found suggest he's got a meeting with an ex-boxing champion, I'd rather not shake that Snakebees nest."

"Well, it's not like we're finding much up here that could really be 'definitive'. Face it, if we're gonna find the case-solver anywhere, it'd be in there."

The older surveyor grunted, though he remained mostly quiet for about a minute while he mulled over what Corvus had suggested. At last he let out a sigh and turned towards the younger surveyor.

"Tell you what. You're the spry, young, and most importantly  _small_ one between us. I'll keep looking up here for anything else, and you can search down under."

"Works for me. This sort of thing happens to be my cup of tea."

"That remains to be seen. Now listen to me—don't take any risks that'll compromise me or Dom. You go down there, you  _only_ take evidence if you have a good opportunity, and you get out. Only stick around for as long as you absolutely have to. Don't lose that camera, and don't blow your cover. If for some stupid reason you do, cover your own ass. Don't bring your mess to me. We clear?"

"Yeah, just leave it all to me. Adlers get the job done."

The thought that the ringleader could have been one of Fischer's workers ran through his mind briefly, and Corvus didn't like having to be suspicious of a jolly, portly old fellow like William, but considering he let a cat pull the wool over his eyes he couldn't leave anyone off the list… and with Fischer's name on the front of the building, Corvus' first guess was the top of the list.

The surveyor crept down the stairs to the second floor, keeping his eyes peeled for anyone still working. Fortunately the late hour meant most people had already headed home, but a few odd rooms were still lit by small glowstones, and he heard snippets from a few conversations, so he knew he wasn't as alone as he'd prefer to be. A certain tenseness built up in his chest while he began to sneak about the floor, quietly as he could. He felt like they were truly on the brink of cracking the case, but knowing that would be dashed if he was sighted certainly wasn't a pleasant sensation. It was like Ricard had said; the less time he spent here, the better off he'd be.

His objective being the office on the other end of the floor, Corvus made it a point to avoid the rooms that were lit, and when out in the more open hallways he kept himself to the shadows or behind cover to stay out of sight. Taking care to keep his coat and sword from dragging along the floor beneath him, the surveyor eventually managed to find himself at the owner's office, though it too was lit up, and he heard a few voices inside muffled behind the closed door. It was far too quiet to make out at a distance, and the drone of heavy rainfall outside didn't make it any easier for him, so Corvus sidled up beside the door to listen in, keeping his eyes aimed down the hallway in case anyone came into view.

"…now that your work there is complete, of course. You have performed a tremendous service for me. It would be remiss of me not to properly compensate you for that."

"Nyaha, it was nothing! Some shiny coin and a steady job is all I could ever ask fur. Hear that, buddy? We got the jobs!"

A third voice replied with something Corvus could only describe as a cross between a deep grunt and a dry wheeze, which just made him shudder to hear. Was that Saiba? Bart must not have been kidding about the guy biting his tongue off if he made noises like that…

"Yes yes, I'm certain that we have more than enough room to fit an able-bodied man like you in around here. As for you Jim, I have a number of positions around here fit for a clever Felyne such as yourself. Certainly better than unpaid janitorial work. Again, you have my sincerest apologies for that."

"It wasn't so bad after the first week. I got ofur my fear of baths at least, nya. Sneaky work like that is what I do best though!"

"Mm, well, I don't believe you'll need to do much sneaking around anymore. The voucherswere simply a one-time deal. The funds I do not need will go towards improving the facilities here, and bonuses for my employees, including what I have of the cut here for the two of you. We will speak no more about this though, am I clear? From what you said before the surveyors were beginning to figure something out, and I'd rather not have this all come crashing down on us later down the line."

"No problem, boss man. After I get my name changed and I have the new papers sorted away, I doubt the surveyors will ever find me! Especially not the tiny jerk. Serves him right too, lookin' down his nose at me like that."

 _I'm going to shove this cat into a garbage can,_ Corvus thought with a scowl, slowly lowering himself to a crouch. He moved to the opposite side of the door frame, noting light cast on the wall around the corner. Based on the laddered shadows it seemed as though the office had a window he might be able to look inside through… and if he could get a picture, he wouldn't have to stick around any longer. They'd spoken directly about the vouchers, the investigation, the money… he had everything he needed, save for a picture of the prime suspects. Slinking around the corner, Corvus parked himself under the window, furrowing his brow at the shudders. They didn't completely block his view, but the angling was odd enough that snapping a picture would be somewhat tricky.

While working on viewpoint to get as much of the room in frame as possible however, Corvus felt a familiar tickle at his nose, mentally cursing as his eyes began to water. He spared a short glance downwards, and through his blurry vision he saw a short trail of light-tan cat hair on the floor. That Felyne must've been shedding… He cursed quietly, trying to cover his face with his handkerchief while lining up the shot. It would only buy him a short few moments, but a couple more seconds was all he needed… No sooner had he found a good spot and snapped a picture of Fischer handing over zenni of zenni towards the towering boxer and the short Felyne than he let out a loud, echoing;

" _ATCHOO!"_

Corvus stumbled into a run down the hall towards the stairs, hearing confused shouts coming from Fischer's office in between his sneezes. No real use trying to be subtle after that. As he reached the staircase leading down he happened a glance over his shoulder, face paling at the sight of a hulking six-foot-tall man garbed in yellowish-tan work clothing beneath a massive brown duster, with a shaved head and one of the most muscular builds he had ever seen glaring at him. A moment later Jim poked around his side and jutted a paw down the hall after Corvus.

"Meow-no! That's that scummy surveyor! Saiba, get him!"

At the Felyne's command the man broke out into a sprint after the surveyor, earning a terrified yelp from Corvus. The surveyor practically flew down the stairs and past a confused worker at the landing, making a break for the front exit. The floor was jam packed with machines used to color and mix huge vats of wax, crates and barrels full of supplies, tables covered with tools to repair the mixers or shape and cut the hardened substance… lots of things Corvus really only knew because he'd been there once before, and not because he was currently fleeing from a veritable beast of a man and his escape route just happened to take him past most of those things. The entire room was about twice as tall as the upper floors to accommodate all the machinery, making the whole building seem a lot bigger all of a sudden.

"Someone block the exits! Don't let that thief get outside!"

Corvus groaned in irritation at Fishcer's voice, noting that a couple workers had immediately begun sprinting towards him while another to block off the front entrance. Given that the whole situation did make him look like the bad guy here, he couldn't really complain that they were doing their jobs, but he had  _really_ been hoping for a lucky break. He darted underneath one worker's attempt to grab him and vaulted over a table to escape the other, letting out a confused murmur at the sound of screeching metal behind him. A quick look over his shoulder made him go wide-eyed—the bald brute had completely lifted one of the tables up, took a moment to wind up, then hurled the entire thing at him.

The surveyor shouted and threw himself to the ground to avoid the large table, as did most of the other workers nearby him. It sailed past them completely, over the rest of the other workbenches and crates, all before slamming into the opposite wall. Corvus grimaced and rolled to the side, pushing himself up on the other side of a table and shaking his head clear while glancing back towards his pursuer.

"Okay, now  _that_  was just uncalled for!"

The man replied with an angered growl before resuming his pursuit, spurring Corvus back into his escape. With the doors blocked, another two workers moving to catch him from the left, and not enough time to explain the situation to everyone, he began to look for alternative ways out of the building, turning his eyes upwards. A wide grin split his lips, and he slid beneath another table to avoid a worker to race ahead towards the table the tall man had thrown his way. He pulled his hood up before leaping up onto the table, and using the raised platform he jumped as high as he could, clearing most of the distance to the ceiling and rocketing himself towards a large window. He covered his head with his arms a moment before impact, shattering through the panes and sailing out into the dark streets once more. He dropped about ten feet and landed hard on his side, rolling several feet to a stop amidst the shards of glass, cursing and groaning as he slowly pushed himself up a couple moments later.

"Corvus! What the hell was  _that_ about?!" he heard Dominic say as the surveyor raced over to him from the alleyway to help him up. "Are you alright?"

"Ow, ow, ow, pain, lots of pain… agh, please tell me that looked cooler than it feels…" he wheezed, staggering up to his feet and shaking his head clear while Dom gave him a shoulder to lean on.

"Eh… eight out of ten. Coulda nailed the landing better."

"Ugh… I'll take that…"

A few shards of glass had stuck through his coat, drawing blood and causing him no small bit of pain, but he made his best effort to move away from Fischer's business with Dom's help while pulling them out, ducking into the alleyway to avoid the streets. Sure, they'd been mostly empty (and he was incredibly glad for that) but he figured it'd be a lot easier to track him through the main roads with how wide open they were. Just because he was outside didn't mean he was in the clear.

The loud 'bang' of the front entrance slamming open was just further proof of that. No doubt that brutish table-hurling boxer was still after him… He hissed as he bumped into a trashcan while Dom helped him limp down the alley, knocking the metal container over rather noisily. They tried to pick up the pace from there to keep Saiba from closing the gap. They made it through that alley and out onto another street, then ducked through a narrow path and into another, wider alley, all while Corvus mentally spewed a river of curses as each step made his wounds pulse with agony. The two made it to the large central space between several buildings before ducking into cover to rest for a hot second.

"Dom, new plan—take the camera and go get the film developed," Corvus grimaced, holding the box out towards the surveyor. "I'm not going anywhere fast pin cushioned with glass, and this case needs to get solved."

"You know what? Great idea! Try not to get beaten into a bloody pulp!"

The surveyor had spoken so fast and swiped the camera from him so quickly that Corvus was left to blink in disbelief as he watched Dominic race down the alley and out of sight.

"Wow. The people I work with are heartless."

So, this wasn't exactly the best way this all could have played out… bleeding profusely while half of his body screamed in pain, more or less abandoned by his fellow surveyors, and squatting beside a pile of garbage wasn't how he'd expected this night to go. But, he had gotten all the evidence they'd needed, and his camera was well out of harm's way, so he figured it was probably about an even trade… so long as Saiba didn't catch up to him. Which, by the sound of a pair of boots racing down his alleyway, was about to happen. Taking ginger care not to aggravate his cuts, the surveyor reached under his coat and pulled Jeopardy from her holster, gripping the oversized revolver hard with his right hand. Hopefully they'd just run on past him, but in the event that he was caught a little intimidation wouldn't hurt, right?

Corvus held his breath when Saiba came into view, trying to hide himself behind the cans as best he could. He mentally cussed when he saw Jim was accompanying the man, though—that explained how they had managed to trail him this far. Still, there was a chance the rain and all the garbage might mask his scent, and they would just move on.

_C'mon lucky star, c'mon lucky star…_

"Rain's makin' it harder to sniff out, but this place stinks of blood, nya. Look around, he's probably hiding somewhere close."

_Dammit lucky star, you had ONE job._

Knowing confrontation was pretty much inevitable, Corvus opted to use the only advantage he really had at this point—surprise. Listening close for the Felyne's footsteps pattering in the puddles, he waited for the cat to come close to his position, resting his hand on the upper side of the nearest garbage can with a cheeky grin. As soon as he felt like the Felyne was in range, he threw the container down as hard as he could, slamming Jim into the street with the full force of a loaded aluminum trash can, making the cat yowl in pain and surprise. Though his injuries screamed from the effort, he turned and kicked the barrel away from him and towards Saiba, sending the now-unconscious Felyne rolling along with it. The man easily sidestepped the bin and made to advance on him, but Corvus quickly pointed Jeopardy his way.

"Ah ah, not a good idea there, pal," Corvus huffed, pushing himself up while keeping the gun trained on Saiba. Keeping himself up straight was difficult, but somehow he managed it. "Even a hulk like you couldn't take a shot from Jeopardy here. But I'm feeling nice, so how about you pick up your jerkass cat friend and be on your way?"

Saiba glanced down at Jim's dazed body to his side, contemplating Corvus' words while the surveyor began to step towards the other end of the alley. After a few moments the man let out a strange sigh-wheeze, slowly kneeling down and reaching a hand towards the cat… only to suddenly snap his arm forwards and grab hold of the trash can's lid, twist, and hurl the metal plate Corvus' way all in one move. The plate slammed into Corvus' fingers, making him yelp and drop the gun with a loud curse, but he quickly returned his attention to the man charging his way, winding up for a punch. Corvus quickly ducked and rolled out of the way, hissing in pain while doing so, but just barely managed to avoid Saiba's punch. The blow instead struck the wall behind where the surveyor had been standing, and for a brief moment Corvus thought the man may have harmed himself… only to find a huge web of cracks had been split into the brick surface, stretching several feet in all directions with Saiba's fist at the very center.

"…Oh. Right. You can use Focus Sense. Have uh, have I mentioned that I'm a  _huge_ fan of your—"

Corvus cut himself off when Saiba pulled his hand from the wall, clenching his other hand into a fist. The green-eyed surveyor could swear this guy's hands were practically glowing with some kind of yellow aura… was that his Focus Sense? The thing Bart and Desmond said let him knock out top-level martial artists with one blow? Corvus didn't quite want to find that out. He pushed himself up and away from an uppercut, staggering slightly on his wounded leg and raising his hands with a nervous chuckle.

"Okay, more like my friend is a huge fan, and he said you were a real nice guy, so maybe—"

Saiba lunged forwards and tried to deliver a straight punch to Corvus' face, which he only evaded thanks to his short stature letting him duck the blow a little faster. He darted behind the boxer and took a couple steps while hissing and clutching at one of the particularly aggravated cuts on his arm.

"Alright, screw it. You're an asshole."

With that statement, Corvus reached for his baton, snapping the device's segments into position with a flick of his wrist and giving it a quick twirl before pointing it towards his opponent. Saiba kept his eyes on the weapon, but approached Corvus nonetheless, his arms raised to either side in a fighting stance. As he drew near, Corvus lashed out at him with the baton, taking a couple quick swipes at the man.

The boxer effortlessly dodged the back and forth sweeps of Corvus' baton by simply lurching back out of his reach, prompting Corvus to try and catch him with a lunge from the electrified tip of the weapon. Saiba sidestepped the attempt though, catching the upper segment of the baton with one hand while driving his other elbow into Corvus' ribs, knocking him a couple feet away onto his back with a pained cough. He shook his head free and pushed himself up in time to see Saiba bend the baton in on itself, then snap the entire thing in half, tossing the now-useless weapon behind him.

"Ugh, why do I even carry that thing…" Corvus grumbled, instead reaching for Sable. The blade hadn't even left its sheath fully when Saiba once again rushed him, ducking low beneath a horizontal sweep of Corvus' blade and surprising the surveyor by quickly pushing up and grabbing hold of his lapel, completely lifting Corvus about a foot off the ground with very little effort. He slammed his forehead directly into Corvus' before tossing him aside, making the surveyor drop his hold on his weapon with a pained grunt while stars danced across his vision.

The only thing that saved Corvus from the knockout blow Saiba followed up with was instinct. He rolled to the side thrice and awkwardly stumbled up to his feet, though after his vision cleared he was left gawking at the large crack Saiba's punch had split through the cobblestone. Suddenly he no longer believed Saiba was just trying to knock him out—this might as well have been life and death, considering the kind of punches the former boxer was throwing his way. Completely disarmed, bloodied thoroughly, with this kind of threat facing him down, and while very much out of options? That was about as extreme as circumstances got. That in mind, Corvus' next move was pretty clear.

Saiba stormed towards the surveyor and lifted his fist again, the yellow energy building up around his hand while he wound up. Corvus saw the blow coming and instinctively snapped his left arm up towards the oncoming fist, focusing his mind while bracing his body. What came next was a loud  _thwap_ and a huge rush of wind that exploded outwardly from the two of them… but despite the force of the blow, Corvus hadn't been pushed back even an inch. Saiba grunted in shock, confusion clear on his expression, while Corvus shot him a wild grin, his green eyes now emitting a dim glow. His left sleeve had shredded off completely from a massive rippling surge of green energy, revealing his bare arm up to the shoulder. The limb was streaked with verdant, vein-like patterns that cast a dim glow into the air, bouncing off the falling rain drops and illuminating the space around them, as well as the massive hazy-black apparition of an arm with a clawed hand that had appeared between them, the forearm of which had stopped Saiba's punch dead.

"Feelin' lucky?"

The surveyor let out a brief shout and shoved back against the boxer's fist, the hazy apparition mimicking his arm's movement and throwing Saiba back several paces into a few trashcans. The glass that had been embedded in Corvus' limb was shoved out of his flesh as his muscles tightened and hardened, closing the wounds the shards left with only small streaks of blood as evidence that there had been injury in the first place. Corvus flexed his fingers and clenched them into a fist with a cocky grin, wiping at a sore spot on his chin with his Hyper state-empowered limb before gesturing towards Saiba mockingly.

"Don't be shy now. Let's dance!"

The boxer kept his eyes on the hazy shroud surrounding the surveyor's arm, but he refused to drop his combat stance, instead edging around towards Corvus' right at a cautious pace. Corvus let out an irritated huff at his opponent's slow-and-steady approach before drawing his arm back and thrusting an open palm towards Saiba. The boxer's eyes snapped wide with shock when the black and green aura around Corvus' arm took the rough shape of a massive, clawed hand that shot towards him at an alarmingly fast speed. Saiba hissed and threw a punch at the apparition, his yellow Focus Aura lighting his fist, and with a resounding  _thoom_ and an outward rush of energy he succeeded in halting Corvus' attack… until Corvus clenched his hand, causing the apparition's fingers to close around Saiba's hand and firmly lock him into place with a hiss of pain.

Corvus scoffed before pulling his arm back—the apparition matched his movement perfectly, yanking Saiba into a stumble towards him, dragged along by the massive appendage. The surveyor drew his free hand back as Saiba neared him, and right as the boxer came into range Corvus released his hold on his hand and simultaneously threw a powerful backhanded blow at Saiba's jaw, though the man successfully threw his arm up in time to block the strike and only ended up stumbling back a couple feet. Corvus silently cursed while shaking the feeling back into his right hand.

"Geez… what are you made out of? Stone? Machalite?" Saiba only replied with a half-wheeze, half-grunt, thumping a hand over the spot Corvus had struck while returning to his combat stance. Corvus lifted his eyebrow at the man—fearless, wasn't he? With a short sigh the surveyor lowered himself back into his own stance, leading with his Hyper arm. "Ah, whatever. You'll crack all the same."

This time Corvus rushed the boxer—the wounds he'd suffered from jumping through the window were significantly dulled now that his Hyper powers were active, pushing the glass out of his body and making him far more capable of fighting at top form. He threw his first punch at Saiba's chest, which the boxer intercepted with a Focus-fueled palm strike to redirect him. Corvus followed up his first strike with a sudden swing of his elbow, a strike that collided with Saiba's arm when he moved to counter, sending the man stumbling back with a shocked grunt at the sheer force behind the blow. Corvus wound back and swung at his opponent several more times—Saiba's experience with fighting helped him block or dodge most of the strikes, but he was definitely on the defensive now.

"Here's something to chew on!" Corvus roared, suddenly rushing into the boxer's guard when the man attempted to strike at him and delivered a powerful uppercut to his jaw. Corvus carried through all the way, leaping up a few feet into the air while the blow sent Saiba flying with his head arching back from the blow. The surveyor completed a full rotation before landing on his feet—Saiba hit the cobblestone a couple yards away squarely on his back, letting out a couple coughs and wheezes of pain. Corvus simply chuckled and glanced towards the hazy aura around his arm. "Hoo, man this feels good! This baby can sure pack a punch, huh? Maybe you should just stay down and—"

Corvus found himself cut off when Saiba abruptly shot back up to his feet and lunged towards him. The surveyor barely snapped his arm up to defend against the Focus-infused blow the boxer threw his way, though he wasn't able to summon the apparition in time to intercept the blow, forcing him to take it with his limb instead. The absurd force behind the blow knocked Corvus several yards back, where he slammed into an array of garbage cans, scattering them and their contents every which way with a pained grunt. He groaned in pain and irritation as he pulled a browned banana peel off his head and tossed it aside, stumbling back up for another round.

"Alrighty then, you aren't going down easy. Point taken."

The surveyor dropped into a combat stance leading with his left when Saiba darted towards him again, fists aglow with his yellow aura. The surveyor successfully batted away the first two swings and ducked into a spin, intending to slam his fist into the boxer's center, but Saiba caught him offguard with an unenhanced straight punch to cheek, sending Corvus' vision spinning as much as he stumbled off to the side. The boxer then followed up with another quick combo of jabs, two of which Corvus blocked and three of which managed to get past his guard, again sending him staggering back, only to trip up when he stepped into a deep puddle and fall onto his rump. Saiba rushed him then, fist lighting up with his aura once more, though this time Corvus snapped his arm up and summoned the ghastly apparition to guard, resulting in a huge concussive wave that cleared out the rain around them for a brief moment while deadlocking the two once more.

Corvus hissed and tucked his legs in, slamming both feet into Saiba's gut while he was vulnerable and sending the boxer staggering back a couple yards. The surveyor rolled back and onto his feet, swinging his left arm upwards to drag the hazy black arm accompanying it through the ground towards the puddle in front of him. It clawed a deep gash through the cobblestone before ripping forth, hurling a wave of water and stones towards Saiba. Temporarily hidden from his opponent's view, Corvus then rolled to the side and made the apparition grab hold of a loaded garbage can, immediately launching it towards the boxer as hard as he could. Saiba managed to see it coming and threw a Focus-punch into the can, a strike that caused the container to immediately crumple and burst in a shower of metal and trash.

The surveyor then tried to close the gap on the man, winding up his Hyper-infused limb for the follow-up, but this time it was Saiba who surprised him—the man turned and flung the long tails of his duster up, spraying rainwater into the air and directly into Corvus' face. The surveyor gacked in shock, momentarily finding his vision obscured before he felt a hand grab hold of his neck. He yelped as he felt himself lifted, spun, and thrown up against a wall, making him cough in shock. He blinked the water out of his eyes only to find himself looking directly at Saiba's… less than pleasant expression, the boxer holding up a fist enshrouded in Focus energy in preparation to smash the surveyor's head into the wall.

What Saiba failed to catch, though, was the figure creeping into the alley behind him. Corvus had the perfect view though, and a short glimmer of realization came to his eyes.

"N-now I know what you're thinking," he gasped, Saiba's grip on his neck making it hard to breath. "It's 'should I clobber the handsome guy's face in'… and the answer to that  _may_ surprise you…"

Saiba snarled and lifted his fist higher, ready to strike, but before he could throw the punch the boxer felt the cold barrel of a Guild officer-issue revolver pressed against the back of his neck, courtesy of Ricard. His expression paled at the  _click_  of the older surveyor pulling the hammer back.

"Drop the idiot."

Saiba hesitated for a moment, his grip on Corvus' neck tightening ever-so-slightly, but after that brief moment he acquiesced, dropping the surveyor to the ground. Corvus coughed as he found his air passage no longer blocked, shaking his head and letting out a short huff of exhaustion.

"Hands behind your back, Silent Saiba. And if you're thinking about decking me, save it—I've got half a dozen friends with me, and we're packing."

Corvus spared a brief glance around, realizing that Ricard wasn't the only one there after all. Four individuals wearing Ran Fos green Guild coats had guns trained on the boxer, and the fifth one of Ricard's 'friends' wore the telltale outfit of a Guild Knight. Accompanying those five was Dominic, who like the others was carrying his small silver revolver. The surveyor spared a quick nod towards Corvus upon noticing his confused expression, but otherwise kept his mouth shut. Had he run to get back up instead?

"You and the Felyne are under arrest for conspiracy, fraud… and assaulting a Guild surveyor," Ricard grunted, eyes momentarily flicking towards Corvus while he clamped a pair of cuffs around Saiba's wrists. "We'll be getting your good pal Fischer shortly, for similar charges. Don't worry, I'm sure you three will have a wonderful time discussing how bad a plan it was to cross the Guild while you're all locked up in central."

Two of the officers stepped forwards while a third strode over and pulled Jim's unconscious shape out of a small puddle, snapping on a pair of Felyne-sized cuffs to the cat's forelimbs. Corvus grunted and pushed himself up while the officers began to take Saiba and Jim away. He glanced around at the others there as he let the glowing green energy of Hyper state fade, then leaned back against the wall.

"Had to come and steal my spotlight, huh?"

"More like save your ass," Ricard grunted, holstering his gun and crossing his arms. "Hyper powers or not, did you really think you were a match for an eight-time boxing champion in a straight fight?"

"I was doing… pretty alright up until that last part. I coulda taken him."

"Mmhm. If Dom hadn't gotten back-up you'd be an annoying stain on the wall right about now. Consider yourself lucky."

Corvus was about to make a retort when a sharp lance of pain split through his left arm, making him his and clutch at the limb. He winced hard and tightened his grip on the limb as the spike of agony intensified, and from there his arm seemed to pulse with pain at even the slightest provocation. Dominic and the Guild officer stepped forwards with shocked expressions, but Corvus waved them off.

"It's fine, it's fine… just how Hyper mode works… Agh, ow ow ow… Almost makes me miss the glass," he hissed through gritted teeth, leaning up against a nearby wall to steady himself. This was easily the worst part about using Hyper state by far… the power felt good until it wasn't there. Then it felt like someone rammed a hot iron bar through every inch of his arm.

"I… see. And where exactly did you get this… 'Hyper' state?" Dominic asked with a lifted eyebrow, hovering close just in case.

"The Guild believes it has to do with coming into contact with a newly shifted Hybrid within a specific span of an individual's life," the Guild Knight elaborated, sparing Corvus the effort. "The phenomenon affects both humans and monsters, though in… differing ways. It's quite the rarity. That being said, he may need to be taken to the hospital. From what I've heard, this state is not kind to the affected limb afterwards."

"You heard right," the surveyor replied with a short chuckle, only to grimace and wheeze from the spike of agony in his arm. "Ow ow, there's the pain again, ow..."

"Alright, let's get him outta here," Dom sighed, once again lending Corvus a shoulder. "Gotta admit though, you did pretty good all things considered. Case is pretty much closed now. Ain't that right Ricard?"

"Yeah, yeah… you owe me a drink, kid."

"Fine… but can someone pick up my gear? Mila won't let me hear the end of it if I lose that sword."

The last officer returned his gear, and then went off with Ricard and the Guild Knight to head towards Fischer and Co. Corvus just sighed with relief as he and Dominic made their way out of the alleyway, off towards the closest hospital so he could get treated. Despite all the pain and the minor irritation he felt at his scrap with Saiba getting interrupted, Corvus couldn't help but grin.

Case closed indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Please review! Sorry about how long it took to get this one out guys, I've been kinda busy with life lately. Plus finding time to write alongside all the games and drawing, along with time at work, has really shrunk down how much free time I actually have. There just aren't enough hours in the day!
> 
> So a while back (chapter 2 I think it was?) I mentioned that Nero from DMC4 was one of the main inspirations for Corvus. Well, this chapter explains why! I enjoy the concept of Hyper monsters a lot even if I don't think they were very well executed-their health bars being the main issue I had. So, I've changed up how they work for the sake of this story, and I've also opened up the way for some real fun fight scenes with Corvus. He's not incredibly skilled, but his powers can at least help level out the playing field, and hopefully make the story universe seem more unique.
> 
> I also just enjoyed writing a stealth chapter for once. I always enjoyed Metal Gear and Assassin's Creed, and I've made plenty of references to both in the past, so Corvus' character and skillset lets me include references to those series without it seeming obtrusive or out of place. Just more of the fun of having a split narrative with two main protagonists! What did you think though? Was it fun to read a chapter about espionage?
> 
> Anywho, I'm keeping these notes short from hereon. Let me know if you liked the chapter, faithful readers! I promise the next ones will be coming out a little bit quicker.


	11. Practice Makes Perfect

Chapter 11: Practice Makes Perfect

The next couple days for Corvus were fortunately quite straight forwards. With all the evidence he and the other surveyors had collected, a full-scale investigation into Fischer and Co. was conducted, and several arrests were made. The business' principal owner fessed up rather quickly, saying that he had masterminded the whole scheme as a means to improve the facilities for his employees while insisting it was his sole doing, and that none of his partners or employees had been in on it. Obviously this was untrue, given Jim and Saiba's involvement, but no evidence was found that could be held against anyone else in the company, so the only ones who remained behind bars for longer than a day were those three.

It didn't take a whole lot of searching around to find out where the zenni Fischer had scammed out of those hunters was—some of the large crates that held the smaller individual boxes of wax had been filled in such a way that the money was hidden in the center while surrounded by genuine product. Despite finding three crates full, one of the other surveyors who was far more learned in economics than Corvus mentioned that there should still have been almost ten-thousand zenni based on the number of hunters affected and the number of fake vouchers registered. While there was certainly margin for error in that calculation, it wasn't nearly that wide. That meant all that money had simply… vanished. Fischer hadn't said a word about it, and despite checking through every last nook and cranny in the wax company the investigators hadn't uncovered a single zenny more. Because of that Corvus couldn't help but think there was more to Fischer's scam than the business owner had let on, but the young surveyor resigned himself to letting the interrogators figure that one out.

He was overall pleased with the part he'd had in solving the case. There was a certain giddiness he felt while Viper debriefed him, Dominic, and Ricard. That had been his first big case after all, and despite some… minor setbacks, he thought things worked out quite well at the end. Viper too seemed content with their work, giving the three surveyors a small bonus and a verbal pat on the back before sending them back out to work.

"You did good, sure, but this is just another day for surveyors," the captain had explained to Corvus after the others had left Viper's office, noting the young surveyor's somewhat-underwhelmed expression. "You could expect a full raise or some time off if you did something like… I dunno, prevent the bank heist of the century like Leonard and Demitri did a few years ago, or put an end to the biggest poaching circle in the region like Ricard did two summers back. This whole voucher deal  _was_ a problem, but comparatively speaking, a small one. You've still got a ways to go before you really break some ground, little bud… but keep at it, hey? You'll get your chance one of these days. Handle that chance with a little more elegance than you did this one, and maybe you'll become the one future surveyors look to for inspiration."

There had been some initial frustration Corvus felt while heading back to his desk, but despite that he noticed some of the other surveyors gave him an approving nod or a quick compliment on a case well done. Each one lightened his mood to see or hear, up until he found himself seated at his desk with a proud smirk on his lips. Maybe it was just him, but he felt like the others were starting to see him less as the fresh recruit too young to be here and more like an equal. More like one of them. Thinking back, he'd even managed to make an impression on Ricard following Corvus' scrap with Saiba, and the older surveyor was about as stubborn as they came.

That knowledge gave him the resolve to tackle his next assignments with all the gusto he could muster… though he figured it would be best to avoid any other conflict if he could. His arm was back in its sling, and would remain so for at least a week and a half while the limb recovered from his usage of the Hyper state. Dominic seemed especially curious about that, and Corvus was more than happy to brag about the ability to his friend. All that time helping out the Guild eggheads with their Hyper research while he was in the academy was definitely paying off now, even if it'd been less than pleasant to go through most of his lessons and combat drills with one arm.

"The power develops when a newly-shifted Hybrid comes into close proximity with an individual during a certain part of their growth, usually during adolescence," Corvus had explained to Dom while they were on a coffee break the third day after resolving the voucher case. "Hybrids give off a sort of 'radiation' for a small period of time after shifting that, when exposed to creatures with a particular combination of genes, causes the Hyper mutation. For me, it was when a Qurupeco Hybrid happened upon my family when we were having a picnic in a field outside my hometown."

"A wild Hybrid just… appeared while you guys were having lunch? Sounds a little dangerous."

"Nah, as far as I remember she was just curious. Most Hybrids that don't have experience with hunters before shifting are. At least, that's what my sister always says. She'd know better than I would when it comes to them. But speaking of Hybrids… looks like our next case has to do with one getting harassed by a few local hunters. Ready to get back to the grind?"

"Can't imagine anyone willing to rough up a Hybrid will be pleasant to deal with, but we may as well."

Thus Corvus returned to his routine. But, elsewhere in Ran Fos, things were about to become far more unusual…

* * *

The city's arena was a large addition made to Ran Fos' northeastern wall many, many decades ago. Its purpose was relatively obvious—much like every other arena in Maglea, it existed to offer entertainment for spectators and challenge for hunters. While not nearly as grand as the one that had once stood in Loc Lac prior to the desert city's complete destruction from a massive Jhen Mohran attack five years ago (fortunately after the Hunter's Exam that year), the Ran Fos arena still saw plenty of traffic from the locals. It was the only place in the region the ordinary person could go to see live monster fights, even if the area's climate and the smaller overall size of the structure meant the variety of creatures that could be held there was lacking.

Mila didn't really enjoy it here. The arena was probably her least-liked place in the entire city, in fact. The building was pretty enough she supposed, and it wasn't like maintenance had been slacking, so everything was more or less in good condition. There was even a domed roof to keep the near-constant cascade of rain from affecting those seated within as well as the hunters fighting against their adversaries in the massive sand pit in the center of it all. Plus, according to Falia, the concessions stand here had the best fried Kut-ku wings for a hundred miles, even if they were technically overpriced.

All that aside, though, Mila just felt like it was all so… artificial. Back when she'd taken her exam in Loc Lac there'd been a sort of excited vertigo she felt while looking up from the sand pit at the cheering masses, but that was just a one-time sensation for her. All the wonder and awe that tugged at her wanderlusting heart while she tracked prints and traversed the many hunting grounds of Maglea, the feeling of endless mystique and adventure she'd long begun to associate with the very idea of being a hunter, was completely absent from this place. Keeping all those wyverns penned up just to be slaughtered for someone else's entertainment also grated on her. Seeing those creatures out in nature, wild and unbound as they lived their lives…  _that_ was one of the greatest parts about hunting. The world outside these walls was just something else entirely. That was why she'd sworn never to visit, let alone take part in, one of these places for the purpose of arena battles.

While she wasn't overstepping that self-imposed vow with her visit today, the nagging irritation at being here was still present at the back of her mind. She'd bear with it for Elliot's sake though. Mila was currently sitting cross-legged atop a supply crate situated to the right of the main passage hunters entered the sand pit through—seated directly to her left was Falia, while Makiyuma lounged to Mila's right, seated on the ground with his back against the box and clearly enjoying the huntress' hand patting his head. Lowell had propped himself up against the wall behind and to the right of her, arms folded while he looked out across the pit towards the middle of the area, and Klavier sat atop a small barrel to the lance user's front-right while he carefully tuned his hunting horn.

The arena manager had, in accordance with the Guild's regulations, set aside two days every week for apprentices and rookies to use the arena for practice. It was a pretty good idea, in all honesty—new bloods could safely hone their techniques against log dummies roughly shaped like small bird wyverns, fire bullets and arrows at targets pinned up onto the walls, practice climbing and rough terrain traversal on the collapsible obstacle courses arena personnel wheeled out… and for those feeling particularly bold, there was even a large automaton constructed in the rough likeness of a draconic flying wyvern. Mounted atop a particularly sturdy base that allowed it to be wheeled out from storage, the construct could turn fully around its base, its wooden 'legs' moving to and fro while the head and tail could swerve from side to side, imitating bites and tail sweeps. The mouth even had a water jet built into its mouth that it sprayed at irregular intervals, striking with enough force to knock an armored hunter flat. It could only emulate a few basic movements of creatures with that body shape, but the wood-and-metal construct was invaluable practice for those just getting comfortable with handling weapons. How exactly it worked, Mila had no idea.

As far as Mila knew these practice days were always pretty busy. Pretty much anyone was allowed in, rookies and veterans alike, and plenty of young kids who had dreams of becoming hunters themselves came to try and squeeze in whatever experience they could. The Guild regulations said the minimum age to become a hunter was eighteen, but there was no such restriction placed on when an aspiring hunter could begin their training. Usually veterans or big shots took the youngsters under their wing though, partly to make sure they were learning properly, partly to show off, and partly to keep them out of the way of the guys that might accidentally roll over them with a great sword or hammer by mistake.

Today the sand pit was particularly packed, though, and for good reason. Xander Maximoff, better known throughout the hunting community as the Master of Styles, was holding a session on hunting styles and arts. Normally he operated around the Bherna region, helping train Wycademy hunters to better adapt to the various locales their work would take them, but he always made yearly trips around the country to demonstrate the knowledge he had amassed over a long, storied career. Mila had attended quite a few of those sessions herself, picking up a lot on the Aerial and Adept schools while learning how to perform the hunting arts known as Shoryugeki and Blood Wind, the latter of which she later adapted into her personal art. Considering just how helpful Maximoff's tutoring had been to her career, she felt like the experience would be invaluable to Elliot's own progress.

Her eyes darted towards the young hunter, standing before another one of the training dummies with a practice sword at the ready. Maximoff had been drilling several short sword users on the Sword Dance art, and was slowly pacing down the line, making each one perform the technique for him to see. The Master of Styles came to his next stop a few feet behind Elliot, harrumphing an order for the hunter to proceed. Though he visibly shuddered with nervous tension, the hunter lowered his faceplate and stepped towards the target. He then let out a short shout and rushed the remaining distance to the target, a flare of orange light wrapping around his blade. He planted his foot directly in front of the target and threw himself into a stationary combo of rapid swings that carved deeply into the target without a sign of resistance. The first three struck true, the orange light unfailing up until halfway through the fourth slash—the blade suddenly halted as it was buried into the wood, and the hunter stumbled to the side with a surprised gasp as the handle was pulled from his grasp.

"Focus, Delabra!" Maximoff ordered, folding his arms and shaking his head. "You mustn't let the flow of your Soul Power escape you in the midst of the art! Be firm and resolute! Muster up your strength and try again!"

The hunter briefly hung his head, but only a moment was spent in doubt. He strode back to the target and pulled his blade free while the Master of Styles moved on to the next hunter in the line. Like Elliot and the four hunters before him, this hunter too failed to properly execute the full combo, and was likewise 'encouraged' by their instructor.

"Well Princess, looks like you owe me another hundred zenni," Falia said puckishly, holding her hand out towards the huntress. Mila pouted for a brief moment before dropping the coins into the handler's waiting palm.

"He  _almost_ had it that time."

"Minimum requirement for the first level technique is five swings. 'Almost' didn't count for the last six tries either." With an obviously-pleased smirk the handler began to divvy up the money into three piles of equal size—one for her, one for Klavier, and one for Lowell.

"Can't expect the kid to pick up on an art that fast," Klavier added, not looking up from his hunting horn. "It'd take a prodigy to learn one in a single afternoon, and Elliot's… not that."

"What, did watching him fall off the obstacle course and get smacked silly by the automaton of fun not clue you into that before, horn blower?" Maki scoffed. "It's a miracle he can even manage three swings."

"Hey, you be nice!" Mila huffed, lightly thwapping the top of the Hybrid's head. "You're losing money on this too you know! Would it kill you to be a little more supportive?"

"Lady Mila, if I am being completely honest, the only reason I put myself on this side of the bet is because you did. I have little faith in the anxious one. But, if you want me to be supportive for the boy, I suppose I can at the very least pretend."

"Real great teammate you got there," Lowell chuckled. "But, Maki's got a point. Three swings ISa lot of progress for one day. Kid's got guts under all that timidity."

"Guts isn't what gets you home at the end of the hunt," the orange-haired hunter mused, blowing a note into his horn before continuing. "Ability is. He's not completely hopeless like a few of those apprentices and greenhorns, but if he doesn't find his groove soon it'll come around to bite him."

The trainees all gave the arts another go before Maximoff barked an order for them to switch out for the next group. While many went off to find other targets to practice on or a bench to sit down for a break, Elliot made his way past the Master of Styles and towards where Mila and the others were. She gave him an encouraging grin and a thumbs up, though she couldn't see his reaction through his lowered faceplate. He plopped down a few feet away from the crate and let out a weary sigh, dropping his practice blade into the sand beside him.

"These arts are impossible to get down," he groaned, panting tiredly while rolling his shoulder. "He keeps saying 'focus, focus', but what am I supposed to be focusing on?! Myself, my weapon, or the target? And what even is this... 'Soul Power'?"

"That's just a fancy way of saying magic," Mila replied with a wave of her hand. "Lots of people think calling it 'magic' is too kiddish, and so they keep trying to find new names for it. Stuff like Soul Power, or Bioenergy, or one of my favorites; Style Points. But Hybrids recognize it as the same kind of thing they use when wielding their elemental powers, so at the end of the day that's what it actually is. Right Maki?"

"As always," the Mizutsune Hybrid answered, lifting a hand as a large, soapy bubble formed out from his palm. He slowly raised his hand up, and the bubble took to the air, floating up towards the ceiling in a long and gradual spiral before popping and showering the ground below with a light rainbow mist. "Though the way we tap into it is vastly different, the energy itself is very much the same thing all forms of life share, from the most beautiful to the most appalling."

Elliot simply huffed and folded his arms. "So it's magic now?! None of this makes any sense!"

"That's what makes the arts so difficult," the lancer shrugged. "Each one works differently, requires a different kind of attention. That's why a lot of people look at the power that fuels these abilities differently. Some interpretations just click easier than others. And that's just for the basic arts—plenty of new ones end up discovered all the time, and some of them are even unique to the hunter. Some of those arts are just woven into a person's fiber, kinda like the skills tons of people think are tied to armor. Still don't quite understand that misconception…"

"Then how am I supposed to learn them?!"

"Double down on the ones that click," Klavier answered simply, hefting his weapon to shake sand off its side. "Nobody expects you to learn all of them. It's not really practical for anyone to learn more than a handful anyways since they get stronger the more you use them and figure out how to develop them—trying to learn a whole bunch stunts the growth of the others."

"Which is the last thing your growth needs, anxious one," Maki added, letting out a low purr when Mila patted his head. Not exactly as supportive as she'd like, but that was probably the best the Mizutsune Hybrid was capable of. "Perhaps it would do you more good to study what the other hunters are doing rather than mope and complain to us, hmm?"

"Hrm... I-is all that true, Mila?"

"Yep! Kinda depends on the styles you use too. I only really learned two arts cuz I spent so much time getting Aerial and Adept down. Those would be Shoryugeki and—"

"Oi, Blade Princess!" The call from across the arena floor cut her off, and she turned her attention from Elliot to the Master of Styles. He had a decent-sized crowd of students around him, but curiously very few were still practicing on the small targets. "A few of these rabble rousers seem to think the lessons aren't worth it! Care to prove otherwise with a demonstration of your signature art, former pupil of mine?!"

"That's an awfully high bar to set for the little guys, Teach!" she replied with a laugh, uncrossing her legs and hopping down from the crate. "But if it'll help out the lesson plan, who am I to say no?!"

"Here we go again... I'm just gonna stay here, keep outside the splash zone," Falia sighed, glancing around at the others. "Same goes for all you?"

"Hardly. For a spectacle such as this I'll accept no less than a front row seat," Maki declared, pushing himself up as well. "Anxious one, perhaps you ought to accompany us. A firsthand demonstration might just rub off on you."

"Alright... I actually don't think I've ever seen her art before."

"That's because it'd be overkill on pretty much anything you can hunt at your rank," Klavier added, pushing himself up when Mila looked his way with an inquisitive smirk. "Need a beat, partner?"

"I'll dance to any tune you play, good sir," she grinned, giving the horn player a long, exaggerated bow. Her eyes then flicked towards Lowell. "And how about you, Ironsides?"

"Think I'll stick around here, stay on the lookout for Zeke and Alastor," the lancer shrugged. "I've seen it before, so I'll admire from afar this time around."

"I don't mind a bit! This way you and Falia can spend some quality alone time together," Mila winked teasingly towards her friend, earning a flustered blush from Falia. The Handler stuttered for a moment or two, fanning her hand rapidly while shaking her head, only to manage a quick chirp of a retort;

"S-shush, you!"

Lowell raised an eyebrow and glanced towards the Handler in amusement while Mila simply laughed and waved for the others to follow along. Klavier raised his horn to his lips and began to blow several notes as they walked, drumming his hand on the side increasingly fast as the tempo gradually picked up. Mila bobbed her head in time to the rhythm for a few moments, feeling a surge of energy resonate within her—one of the hunting horn's many buffs. She grinned wide as the music swelled, and her silvery-diamond eyes briefly flared when she felt that inner well of energy peak.

The huntress came to a halt a few feet from the group, purposefully taking a long and slow gaze across the many faces in the crowd while gradually turning her head towards the targets the rookies had been using. This gave the students plenty of time to whisper excitedly amongst themselves. Most of them had been staring wide-eyed at her approach. Not that she could blame them, seeing a talented, beautiful, renowned huntress like her up close was probably like meeting a celebrity to them.

Now that she actually was up close, Mila noticed just how many more guys were in the group of rookies than girls. It wasn't wholly surprising in all honesty—huntresses weren't nearly as common as hunters due to how strict the Guild's regulations are about height, weight, strength... genetics could be cruel, so lots of huntresses-to-be gave up early and pursued other professions. That also led to an annoying stigma that hunting was a 'man's job'. Mila had to deal with that quite a bit in her early career. Nobody called her skill into question nowadays, but it still annoyed her to know that it happened all over the place. At least there wasn't a pay gap.

Mila shook her head clear of those thoughts after an appropriate amount of dramatic build up and smirked, flicking her gaze towards the Master of Styles.

"You don't expect me to use these dinky little things for the demonstration, do ya Teach? They wouldn't even last one swing."

"Hrm. I suppose you do have a point," Maximoff grinned, immediately turning towards the much larger automaton farther off to the left, and the few hunters-to-be still surrounding it. "Ey! You guppies better clear outta there! Ain't every day small fry get a chance to see something like this!"

The rookies turned and, recognizing the crowd of spectators and approaching huntress, immediately booked it out of the way, leaving the space around the wyvern automaton completely open. Mila stepped forth and drew her twin Sworn Rapiers, Lavender and Lily, the sharp crystalline blades singing as she gave them both a quick twirl. A light mist of water element accompanied both edges, hanging in the air and catching the light of the massive glowstones high above to create a dazzling shimmer around her.

Mila widened her stance and drew her left arm across her chest, her grip on the thin red blade's handle tightening as she focused on the automaton. A sky-blue aura enveloped her as she drew from that inner well of energy until it felt like it would explode.

"Better keep those eyes on me!" she warned with a brazen grin, foot sifting ever so slightly in the sand behind her.

"Blink and you'll miss it!"

The following rush of energy propelled the huntress into blisteringly-fast speeds, such that in nearly same moment she'd pushed off, Mila had shot past the automaton, slashed it half a dozen times in a spiraling rotation, landed, and turned to face it once again, briefly catching a glimpse of the three after-images of herself that had branched off from her trajectory, only to launch herself at the construct again. And again. And again. Five dashes in total, each one spanning mere milliseconds as she darted to and fro, wildly slashing through the construct so fast even she lost count of how many times she'd done so. The after-images her speed generated roughly mimicked her movements, scattering about the area around the star-shaped pattern she had dashed in and making it appear as though she were in no fewer than seven places at once. Her final dash led her just past the spot she'd started from, where she came to a sudden halt on one knee, blades held out to either side of her as the after-images rapidly converged on her, making her appear as one again.

A brief, still second of silence followed the end of her hunting art, only for reality to register what had transpired all at once. The innumerable slashes of her razor sharp dual blades cleaved through the logs that made up the automaton's body, causing almost every part to split and fall off the metal base while countless flashes of water element shredded through the wooden material. The concussive force generated by her mach-speed dashes all converged on the center of the space, causing a huge pillar of sand to erupt from the floor behind her with a massive resounding  _thoom_ , reaching high into the air behind her.

"And that's Lunar Star Slash," she smirked. Mila stood up as sand and wooden debris rained down, though she noted one particularly intact log was dropping towards some of the spectators. Without missing a beat she whipped one of her swords at the falling log, which rotated fully twice before burying its tip into the log, knocking it out of its trajectory so it landed harmlessly beside Maki and Elliot, the latter of whom yelped in surprise whilst the former applauded the spectacle quite openly.

The rest of those watching had composed themselves enough to back off or defend themselves... save for the occasional few that were so stunned it took getting pelted by a sand and woodchips to knock them out of it. As the sand settled back into the arena floor and the automaton came into sight, the spectators found nearly every log that previously covered its carbalite skeleton had been sliced clean off. Though the skeleton itself was completely intact, the metal bars were scratched and gouged rather deeply from the technique's limited property of bypassing defense. The automaton let out a low groan before the lopsided weight of its still-intact head caused it to tip forward, burying a few inches into the sand.

With the demonstration over with, Mila waltzed on over to the log Lavender was buried into and pulled the purple blade free, giving both blades a quick twirl before sheathing the twin swords on her back. She lightly patted Elliot's shoulder as she strode past him, noting his faceplate was up now and that, like most of the crowd, his eyes were still glued to the automaton's remains.

"Keep on keepin' on, kiddos! Maybe we'll see each other around the hunting grounds sometime!" she said, giving the group a short two finger salute as she strode through the crowd.

Klavier and Maki accompanied her on either side, and after a couple more moments Elliot shook his head clear and scrambled along after them. As they made their way back towards Falia and Lowell, Maximoff barked an order for the rookies to get back to practicing their hunter arts, which all of them took to with much gusto. A few arena workers had also entered the sand pit to wheel out the ruined automaton, but Mila's attention was focused on the two new figures standing nearby the crates of supplies—one in Zinogre armor, the other in Rathalos gear.

"Took the two of you long enough!" she laughed, grinning wide as she neared the other hunters.

"Luckily we made it just in time to see that display of yours," Zeke replied, scratching at his beard while nodding approvingly. "Seems you haven't lost your touch since I saw you last."

"Duh, it's not like I haven't been kicking serious butt for the last two years, Ace!" the huntress smirked, bumping forearms with the hunter. She then turned her gaze towards the masked hunter on her left, eyebrows lifting coyly while her hands rested on her hips. "And hellooooooo there, Hotshot! You've definitely bulked up since I saw you last! Also, LOVE what you're doing with your hair now. Heheh, Mila likey what she sees~"

Alastor simply sighed in response, folding his arms and turning his head away with a stuffy half-frown, to which the huntress giggled flirtatiously. She liked a guy who played hard to get.

"So why did it take you both so long to get here anyways?" Lowell inquired. "You were more than a week behind me."

"I had every intention of heading straight for Ran Fos, but SOMEBODY wished to stop and waste time doing menial quests for people in every village between Cheeko Sands and here," Zeke grunted, shooting a deadpan glare at Alastor. "Apparently he'd rather spend time gathering mushrooms for old crones than preparing for the greatest hunt of his life."

"There's nothing wrong with helping others. Especially not when I need money to feed myself."

"I was the one paying for almost everything you ate! As well as the boat ride from the Southern Isles, the airship from Val Habar, AND all the inns between!"

"I am POOR," Alastor frowned, glaring Zeke's way from beneath his metal visor. "Getting my armor repaired after fighting that Zinogre took almost every last zenny I earned, even after selling all the parts I got from it. And do I  _really_ need to remind you who it was that sought me out in the first place? I never asked for you to pay. Blame yourself."

"Yeesh. It's a miracle those two didn't kill each other on the way here," Falia muttered from beside Mila, stepping forwards and planting a hand on both of their chests to push the two hunters apart. "Look, let's try to keep the squabbling to a minimum. There's a bigger fish to fry."

"So you DO know about this... Lowell, didn't I say not to—"

"She's Mila's Handler," the lancer quickly stated with a wave of his hand. "Keeping her out of the loop was impossible."

"Plus Falia can be SO convincing!" the dual blade wielder chuckled. "It's cuz she's so darn adorable."

"Lowell, yes. Mila, no. ANYWAYS," the Handler continued, folding her arms, "I'm along for the ride too. A chance like this doesn't happen very often, and let's just say I've got something to gain from it too."

"And you'll tattle on us if we don't let you," Alastor surmised with a dry tone.

"Bingo."

Zeke let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head, but otherwise didn't present an argument to Falia. He was probably just too fed up with everything at this point to try. His brow did furrow when he noticed Maki, Klavier, and Elliot approaching.

"And who have we here?"

"Just some friends of mine," Mila said, gesturing over her shoulder at each of them. "Klavier's the best hunting horn player around—"

"And I do gigs on the weekends at her dad's tavern," Klavier briefly cut in before Mila continued.

"—Maki's a Mizutsune Hybrid and one of the best fighters I've seen—"

"I also help style her hair," he added with a proud chirp to his voice, though his expression stiffened a moment later. "Speaking of, the both of you desperately need help with yours."

"—and the little guy is Elliot, an up-and-coming low ranker."

"And I—! Uh... I-I got nothing actually."

"Mm. Well, as riveting as it was to meet you all, we have business to attend to rather immediately," Zeke nonchalantly stated, turning towards the exit. "Mila, I trust you know somewhere we could speak of this matter privately?"

"Definitely! Let's get going right now!"

"Wait wait, you're just... leaving?" Elliot asked, nervously glancing about as the others looked his way. "What about us?"

"Oh, you guys can go do whatever! You should keep at it here though Elliot, these lessons will help you out big time!"

"B-But—!"

"Works for me, I have to check in on my sister-in-law," Klavier said with a sigh before beginning to stride off towards the exit. "See you next time."

"I'm quite sick of all this sand myself. I'm going to deal with it, then take my mid-afternoon nap," Maki yawned, bowing towards Mila before turning towards the exit himself. "If you need me Lady Mila, you know exactly where to find me. If anyone else needs me, too bad for them."

"Alrighty! Have a nice nap!" Mila waved after him before turning to the other Faces and Falia. "So, howzabout we get a move on too?"

"You know where we're going, so you lead the way," Alastor shrugged, only to grunt in surprise when Mila dashed over, grabbed hold of his arm, and began to yank him along after her. "Urk! What are you—?"

"Leading the way! I have LOTS I wanna show you, Hotshot!" Mila giggled, pulling the charge blade user along while Falia, Zeke, and Lowell spent a second or two watching in amusement before following as well, leaving the arena and the rookies without a second glance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Please review! Sorry about the long wait for this one, but there was a reason for it. If you didn't catch this little detail at the start of the chapter, I've actually decided to do all the chapter editing by myself now. Gecko and I are still on good terms, but I wanted to try out a new writing strategy and unfortunately that meant nixing the wait between drafting and editing. So, from here on out Heritors will be 100% from my brain. Coincidentally, I'll DEFINITELY be able to put chapters out faster now! Part of that is because I actually have something of a chapter backlog now.
> 
> So the voucher arc reaches its conclusion, and the focus can now mostly shift to Mila and the Tempest arc. Corvus will definitely still be around though, so try not to miss him too much.
> 
> Something I think I sorta messed up with early on in my writing was shoehorning magic into my story universe without much explanation for it. I tried to rectify that a bit with TMC, but now I think I've really nailed down exactly how it works thanks to Generations and World. It acts as the fuel for hunting arts that aren't item- or technology-based, and as the conduit for Hybrid characters to use their elemental abilities through. There's some other uses for it too, but these are by far the most common ones I'll be implementing. Also, the Witcher event in World validated my use of magic in writing, and words cannot express how happy that makes me.
> 
> I also had some fun with the idea of the arenas being used for training quests in the main games for this chapter. Makes sense to not just throw new hunters into the wild without any training, but I also thought it wouldn't make much sense to bring the large monsters to them either. Additionally, something I've had many discussions with Gecko about is why human-shaped dummies are used for practice so much. He has his own explanations for his story, but for mine, I was mostly just being an idiot. But I'm better than that, and my story universe is somewhat more advanced than the actual game universe, so I came up with my ultimate solution: Mecha Rath! Honestly I'm just disappointed that I didn't think of it sooner.
> 
> As far as gaming goes, Smash Ultimate is still lots of fun! I'm pretty much settling on Link as my main, even if he sorta always was. His bomb is basically my holy hand grenade. I've also been playing a TON more World lately, what with the appreciation fest and the Witcher event and all. I think I'm in the minority here, but I actually REALLY enjoy the Ancient Leshen fight. Some mechanics are a little janky, but once I got a team that knew what it was doing, it turned from a chore into a real fun throwdown. If you need help with the fight and you're on Xbox One, send me a PM and I can try to give you a hand. Oh, and DMC5 is literally one week off! That's gonna eat up a lot of free time, I can already tell.
> 
> Well, that about does it from me! I'll get the next chapter out within a week or two. Leave a review or follow the story if you enjoyed the chapter! As always, I love hearing from readers about anything and everything! Till next time!


	12. Next Steps

"And here we are at last! Best house in Ran Fos right here—make yourselves comfy!"

The huntress threw open the front door for the others to file in—her dad was working the early shift today so the abode was completely vacant prior to their arrival. It'd taken a little over an hour to make it to the Adler household, mostly on account of them stopping at the inn Lowell's room was at so Zeke could rent himself a room and drop his gear off. He outright refused to room with Alastor, citing the trip to Ran Fos as the reason why, while Lowell insisted that he just didn't have the space for another person in his room.

As such, the charge blade user had little other choice than to accept Mila's all-too-eager invitation to stay at her place due to his dwindling funds. He dragged his item chest into the living room after the others, letting it drop with a hollow thunk.

"Again, this is only until I can figure something else out."

"Of course! But take as long as you'd like doing that, hehe."

"And no funny business, got it?"

"What kind of funny business do you  _think_  I—"

"I'm not falling for that one again. Now, where can I leave my things?"

"Up in my room!" Mila grinned, only to earn another annoyed frown from the hunter. "Hey, I'm actually being serious! My room's the only one with enough space to keep another suit of armor and a giant weapon out of the way. It's not like I'm asking you to sleep in there too. Although—"

"No."

"Had to try."

"Just give me your word that you won't go through my things."

"You don't even own enough for that to be a concern," Zeke pointed out, shaking droplets of water from his spiky hair. "Or are you worried she'll learn you only own two shirts?"

The charge blade user glared venomously at Zeke from beneath his metal mask before sighing and hefting his item box and heading towards the stairs.

"Last door on the right! And feel free to change in there!" Mila called up after him before ushering the others into the living room. "Ooh, I'll make some tea for us to chat over in the meantime!"

"Have any alcohol? Tea isn't really my thing," Zeke said, settling into a chair.

"It's only two in the afternoon."

"And it's five o'clock somewhere else in the world, Lowell."

"We've got Nibel Apple hard cider and Rath whisky. No one else in the family drinks, and that's all I really like. Apart from red wine, but all the good stuff is just so darn pricey! Curse these high standards."

"And yet you're crushing on a guy who doesn't even have a thousand zenni to his name," Falia scoffed, settling on the edge of a table in the corner. "High standards. Right."

"Money isn't everything, Sweetheart!" Mila replied with a huff, looking back towards Zeke.

"I'll just take a straight whisky then."

"Four teas and a stiff drink comin' up!"

Alastor came down after a few minutes in a simple long-sleeve brown top and tan trousers long worn down and faded from traveling, though he kept the metal mask on. For some reason he also wore a glove and kept the sleeve rolled down on his right arm while the left was bare. She also noted bandages on his right shoulder, barely visible beneath his collar.

"Didn't you guys say you didn't fight anything on the way here? How'd that happen?" she asked curiously while handing him a cup.

"Just an old injury. Not pretty to look at."

"Ah, gotcha. Lemme change out of my gear real quick and we can start talking about this hunt for real!"

She was in her underarmor within minutes, vaulting down the stairs and into the living room before her tea had a chance to cool. Rolling over the armrest into the couch next to Falia and planting one foot after another onto the coffee table in front of her, Mila could contain an ecstatic grin seeing the other Faces. She'd been just as elated during the trip here, sidling up close to Alastor and pointing out various landmarks and points of interest to the new arrivals like she had with Lowell the day after he came to Ran Fos, but who could blame her for being so energized? It was the first time since their exam that the four of them had gotten together like this! This would be an occasion to remember.

"Well, now that we're all here I'll just cut right to the chase, make sure we're all on the same page," Zeke said, sitting forward in his chair and setting his drink down. "The Kushala Daora known as Tempest is currently traveling to the Everwood from its usual habitat in the northern arctic regions. I'm of the mind that we should use this rare opportunity to hunt it."

"As someone who actually has access to this sort of information, exactly how did you learn about this?" Falia asked, crossing her arms with a scrupulous glare. "The Guild doesn't just let this sort of knowledge slip. And why even hunt it in the first place? Tempest isn't exactly the most aggressive elder dragon that's ever lived."

"True though that may be, its history also isn't without a fair share of spilled innocent blood. Debating the ethics of it would be fruitless. More importantly, why it's heading to its roost in the forest this early in the year isn't known. Its movement patterns have been sporadic and haphazard, only barely sticking to its usual path and straying up to a hundred miles of it... and as it were, the closest settlements to its usual path are all in the Ran Fos region."

"So you're saying there's a chance it could attack the city?" Mila asked, which Zeke confirmed with a nod. "Hmm..."

"The movement patterns are what concern me," Alastor remarked after a sip of tea. "Zeke showed me some of the Dragonwatch reports his informant gave him, and the irregularities are... well, he's not joking about that detail. I've only ever heard of monsters acting this way occasionally, and usually for a clear reason. Never an elder dragon, and never without cause."

"Do you have any theories why?" Alastor frowned and Zeke's brow furrowed at Lowell's question, though neither offered any explanations up.

"What's more important now is what to do about it," Zeke asserted, folding his fingers and glancing around at the other hunters. "An elder dragon like Tempest acting this strangely can't be a good sign. So, I say we cut off its route and hunt it before any harm befalls the nearby settlements."

"I really hope I'm not the only one who immediately sees major problems with this plan," the handler grimaced, rubbing the bridge of her nose irately. "If it's straying some hundred miles off course, how are we even supposed to 'cut it off'? And even if we DO somehow get lucky, how will we keep it from running at the first sign of trouble? That risks a pissed-off Kushala attacking towns while we're off in the middle of nowhere."

"That solution is sitting right next to you," the Ace replied, pointing towards Mila. "You've had no fewer than two encounters with Tempest already. Considering the rarity of a single elder dragon, I find it hard to believe those were just chance meetings."

Mila nodded in agreement, her mind flashing back to times she crossed the steel dragon. "It was like Tempest came right to me both times. I didn't even have Radiance when I first encountered him. It's kinda weird, but both times I saw him, I couldn't help but feel like he was almost... challenging me. Like he went out of his way to do it."

"Which is why I believe that your presence is the most vital for this hunt," Zeke insisted. "Given your history Tempest will likely seek you out again, and that will give us the opportunity we need to bring it down. I also believe it won't flee if you remain in the vicinity."

"That's only if your Kushala magnet theory holds up," Lowell sighed. "Call me a skeptic, but I'm not sure this is something we can afford to rely on."

"Question is, can we dismiss the possibility?" Alastor stated bluntly, earning the others' gazes. "Mila's family and friends all live in this city. If Tempest does have the want to seek her out, staying within the walls when Tempest is near will only put them at risk."

"Yeah, no, I'm not letting that happen," Mila affirmed. "Alastor's got it dead on. If Tempest wants a fight then I'm more than happy to give him one, and you all can definitely count me in on this, but I'm not going to endanger anyone in Ran Fos. I—"

The huntress paused and turned her head towards one of the windows. Someone had entered the range of Awareness outside the back of the house, but they were moving suspiciously. The figure was skulking up close to that window facing the alley, pulling themself up to the sill like they were trying to spy on the occupants. Mila locked gazes with the figure the moment their head came into view... though rather than recoil or flinch, the strange man just raised a hand and waved with a smile.

"What in the world...?" she muttered, pushing herself up and walking over to the window, not pausing to explain to the others why she was doing so. She lifted the lower sash and poked her head out of the opening, noting the strange man had backed off a couple feet. He was wearing a rather strange combination of colors underneath a tan Wroggi hide coat, with the hood drawn up to shield his head from the rain. She didn't recognize his face, though he was smiling cheerfully, almost expectantly. "Didn't your mom ever teach you it's rude to snoop around other people's houses?"

"Of course! 'Twas one of many varied lessons on a number of interesting topics, up to and including standing backflips, crossdressing, and self-defense with a pair of chopsticks! Frankly speaking she was an odd woman."

Mila blinked, raised an eyebrow, then warily began to close the window. Ran Fos was filled with all sorts of people, but she preferred to keep the complete nutjobs away from her house.

"Waitwaitwait! You haven't even let me introduce myself or explain why I'm here!" the man implored, frantically waving his hands to gesture for her to stop.

"Alright, you get three sentences. Go."

"My name is Mercutio! I have incredibly valuable information about the special matter Zeke called you and the other Faces together for! Also I know your brother, and he wanted me to tell you he'll be out late 'picking up hot coffee'."

"He only says that when he's—oh! Well good for him! It's about time. Hang on a sec, would ya?"

Corvus and Mila had a number of code phrases they used, typically ones that were more often than not just small inside jokes between them, and that sounded  _just_ a little bit weird, but not usually enough to warrant more than a raised eyebrow. The fact that this Mercutio fellow knew that phrase in particular meant Corvus had to trust him, and considering Corvus'… Corvus-ness, that was saying something. Still, the fact that her brother had failed to mention such an eccentric fellow to her before did leave her with a couple questions. Mila leaned back into the house and turned her head towards the Ace.

"Do you know some wacko that calls himself Mercutio?"

"Yes, that's the name of my informant. Why? Is he here?"

"You weren't expecting him or something?"

"No, I figured he was the type to just disappear into the wind after he gave me the documents. What does he want?"

"He said something about having information on Tempest."

"Really? Well, what are you waiting for? Let him in so we can hear him out."

"Could be important," Lowell shrugged. Alastor too nodded in agreement. Mila shared a quick glance with Falia before rolling her eyes and poking her head back out the window.

"Alright, come on in."

Mercutio sauntered on up the steps and entered the house, his mischievous smirk not faltering for even a moment. Before stepping into the living room he sniffed the air in the kitchen, gold eyes darting towards the tea pot and opened bottle of whisky sitting on the table. Mila watched curiously as he filled a cup halfway with both, plopping a sugar cube into it, then chugged it all at once before letting out a refreshed sigh. Strange was definitely a good word for the guy… but as far as Mila could tell with her Awareness he didn't bear anyone here ill will.

"Well, it certainly took you lot long enough to show up! I could have grown another beard during that wait," he chuckled, stepping into the room with the others while Mila strode past him to stand beside Falia's seat. "But what a sight this is indeed! The Four Faces, all gathered in one room for the first time in five years! Simply spectacular."

"You act surprised, but you knew this would be the team I assembled from the beginning, didn't you?" Zeke asked, slightly cocking his head to the side with a discerning gaze. Mercutio simply laughed.

"My friend, I don't 'know' anything! I could certainly happen an educated guess, perhaps leave a little whisper of a suggestion in your ear, but to have the very power to predict the future? No, that would be so terribly drab. Life fascinates me because I never know exactly what will happen next! It's just one mystery after the next, and I do so love solving mysteries."

"Huh. I like this guy's attitude!" Mila nodded, glancing down at Falia. The Handler was simply eyeing the man with a confused look, as though she wanted to ask a dozen questions but had no clue where to even start. Her attention shifted to Alastor when the red-haired hunter cleared his throat.

"Let's keep this on topic. You said you had new information about Tempest."

"Yes, yes, of course, Crimson King. Well, you see, while I was awaiting your arrivals, I had to busy myself with  _something_. Boredom and I mix as well as oil and water. So, I decided it would be best to, ah, 'appropriate' some more recent Dragonwatch missives regarding one giant Steel Dragon, and found that for as late as you lot all were—save of course the Queen, for obvious reasons—our dear friend Tempest is  _also_ going to be arriving fashionably late."

"How late are we talking? And for what reason?" the lancer questioned. "Was there any explanation for these sporadic movements?"

"Mm… no, sadly not. The Guild has only been able to observe Tempest from afar, and considering the perpetual storm that follows it, any details the experts may glean would be foggy at best! You can of course read the missives at your leisure—I brought a copy to share with you all." As he spoke, the man reached into his satchel and pulled out a stack of documents, plopping them down on the coffee table in the midst of everyone. Falia's hand darted for the stack before anyone else moved, snatching them up and fervently scanning over the lines.

"This is… how in the  _blazes_ did you get into the Guild archives?! This is highly classified information! They have  _Knights_ guarding that place!" she asserted, lightly thwapping the sheets with the back of her hand while she shot a glare towards the man. Seemingly unperturbed, Mercutio simply raised his hands, closed his eyes, cocked his head to the side, and smiled.

"Would you like the long explanation, the short one, or the abridged version? The latter is much more entertaining, though it might take a year or two for you to get the punchline."

"…What does that even  _MEAN?!"_

"Short version it is! You see, I—"

" _Focus,"_ Alastor grunted with a clearly-irate tone. "When will Tempest be arriving at its roost?"

"Ah, straight to the point! Two weeks," the roguish man smirked, holding up two fingers as he spoke. "Given this information and the predicted course it usually takes, the Guild's specialists believe it will be flying east from its current position to correct its course, then travel south. A direct south-eastern flight would result in it flying over several more settlements and cities, which it seems it would prefer to avoid if it can. It's specifically because of this that the Guild really has no idea whether to call a state of emergency in the region or not… so, they're opting to simply wait and see, while quietly informing the 'qualified professionals' of the situation. All in order to prevent a needless panic, you see."

"I take it by 'professionals' you mean G Rank hunters and Guild Knights."

"Right on the money, Ace! I've also happened upon a  _very_ interesting development for you all to plan around—the Guild is restricting all questing on the days Tempest is predicted to be nearest the city. No official quests can be taken for a full forty-eight hours, and all non-essential outbound traffic will be halted. Nobody goes out unless the Guild has previously given them an official go ahead."

"So leaving the city will be it's own mess…" Lowell sighed, shaking his head and looking towards the others. "Anyone have any ideas? Falia?"

"Well, I know how this sort of procedure usually works…" she replied. "All quests and free hunting expeditions are restricted, no ifs, ands, or buts.  _However,_ scheduled research expeditions are considered essential. I might be able to get Mila signed up for one, then you all can just join up as extra help."

"Surely the Guild wouldn't be so lax when it comes to an elder dragon."

"Not with their regular researchers. As stubborn as most of those guys are, the Guild doesn't just let its personnel throw themselves into danger without a second thought."

"So this plan won't work," Zeke frowned, though Mila chuckled and patted Falia's shoulder encouragingly.

"Hey, she said  _regular_ researchers! There's still a loophole there," the dual blade user smirked. "The Guild likes to outsource to Alchemy hunters to do field research too! Saves them a lot of zenni to send scholar-hunters out instead of a full team of researchers and a bunch of hunters to protect them. All we gotta do is get an Alchemy hunter to schedule an expedition into the Everwood for that day, then make sure they're out of harm's way when Tempest shows up! Easy as pie."

"And I take it you know an Alchemy hunter around here crazy enough to do that?" Alastor asked, being answered with a wide affirming grin and nod from the huntress. "Can't say I'm surprised… but that's one problem dealt with. You got anything else for us, Mercutio?"

"No, that was more or less the gist of it," the man replied, his gold eyes darting from one face to the next. "I trust you all will be able to figure out how to conquer this challenge though. After all, you're the brightest young hunters of this generation! I look forward to seeing you all meet the task at hand. I will bring any other information I 'happen across' to you though—I hope for nothing less than stunning success from all of you! 'Till next we meet, brave Faces!"

Mercutio bowed for a long moment before swiveling on his heel and striding off towards the door, leaving as quickly as he had arrived. The hunters were left to quietly mull over the information he'd brought them while Falia quietly fumed to herself about the strange man's dubious methods, up until Alastor shattered that silence with the sound of his palms slapping against his knees.

"Well, this changes things, most of it for the better. We have time to prepare, so I say we use it."

"In what way? We're already outfitted and equipped to face Tempest," Zeke said, crossing his arms. "It wouldn't even take a day to purchase any supplies we need."

"Remind me, when was the last time the four of us hunted as a team?" Alastor responded with an annoyed huff. "I seem to recall it was... never. Not once. We've paired off at various points, sure, but we haven't ever coordinated as a full group. If we're going to stand a chance against an elder dragon we need to work together."

Again, the Ace grumbled under his breath, unable to contest Alastor's point. He instead chose to slam down the rest of his drink and push himself up from his seat.

"Well, I know you love planning your hunts for weeks in advance, so I'll leave you to that. I'm going to go and relax, wander the town, and enjoy  _not_  having to be in your presence for the first time in weeks. Cheers."

With that Zeke strode out of the house, throwing his arms through the sleeves of his coat as he departed.

"Someone's in a bad mood," Falia mused after watching him go. Lowell scratched the side of his head awkwardly and nodded in agreement with that statement.

"Probably just the long trip here. I'm sure he'll get over it before long. But, he did have a point... Alastor, this is your specialty. You come up with the plan of attack, and I'll follow along."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that!" Mila chimed in, plopping down next to Falia and eagerly rubbing her hands together. "You can be like our team leader!"

"Team... leader?" the charge blade user repeated with a perplexed frown.

"Yeah! That's how my dad's team did things back when he was with the Master Corps, and they got work DONE! So, you're our leader. Majority rules!"

" _What_  majority?"

"Everyone but Zeke," Falia stated bluntly. "And be honest, do you really want him to be the one coming up with the plans? From what I remember that guy only knows two strategies: 'attack' and 'attack more.'"

"Mm. Good point. Alright, Lowell, mind going after Zeke to keep an eye on him? I'd rather him not get lost or wind up with a hangover tomorrow."

"Can do."

"Falia, do you think you can set us up with a hunt before you get that expedition scheduled?"

"Easy. That's a lot simpler than the expedition will be anyways… I'll get you all signed up for something in the next day or so. Anything you want to go after in particular?"

"Preferably something that likes to use its wings for combat. We'll need to deal with air currents and fast movements."

"Lucky you, there's a lot of things like that around here. I'll get that lined up."

"Excellent. As for you Mila, it would help me to know the locale better so we can plan our attack around a location that gives us the advantage. Do you know where I can get my hands on some maps of the hunting grounds to study?"

"Absolutely! Gimme like thirty seconds!"

Lowell and Falia said their farewells and left together to begin their own tasks while Mila bolted back up the stairs and into her room, throwing open her closet door and scanning the shelves on which numerous rolls and tubes of paper were stored. After looking at them for a few moments she shrugged, grabbed as many as her arms could hold, and raced back downstairs while wearing a giddy smile. She dropped the stack onto the coffee table, earning a sputtered cough of surprise from Alastor.

"What in the blazes... these can't all be for just this area," he muttered in disbelief, setting his cup on the table beside him.

"Nope! This is just an armful from my collection," Mila stated while proudly planting her hands on her hips. "I always get one whenever I go somewhere new! And when I haven't been back somewhere in a while. And whenever I see one I like."

"I... see. That's a lot of maps."

"Almost a hundred! I have more upstairs too if ya wanna take a look. They're from all over Maglea! I wanted to put them all up on a wall so that I could have a collective scrapbook map of the entire country, but I don't actually have a wall big enough to do that. Just another life goal though, amirite?!"

"One of your life goals is to get a big wall?"

"Yep!"

"…Truly, I have never known anyone so easily pleased. Lets just keep it to the Ran Fos area," he insisted, frowning when the huntress' expression shifted ever so slightly. "What is it?"

"Yeah, see... I'm actually not sure which ones are which. I always meant to get around to labeling them, but I just keep getting distracted whenever I have the free time!" she laughed. "If only someone could help me look through them all…"

Alastor seemed less than amused by her tone of feigned innocence, resting his head in his hand and sighing.

"Alright, fine, I'll help you sort through them..."

"Aww, you're such a great guy! Gotta say though, inviting yourself into my room just after using your leader position to get us alone while I'm in such a state of undress? That's awfully bold of you! Not that I mind~" she giggled, leaning over him with a flirtatious grin. Alastor sank further back into his chair, maintaining a stoic expression despite the subtle redness that lit up his cheeks. Shame, she thought, that she couldn't see the rest of his face through that mask. But, if her seven-step plan to make him fall for her worked out, that should be coming off at step three along with everything else he had on.

"Can you please stop purposefully misconstruing everything I say and do?" he sighed, turning away so as not to meet her gaze.

"I'm not misconstruing anything! I just know I'm irresistible."

"More like incorrigible... look, can we just go through those maps?"

"Heheh, alright, alright! I'll have plenty of time to make you tumble head over heels for me anyways," she laughed as she leaned back. Alastor sighed, though he paused in thought partway through standing up. Mila lifted her eyebrow curiously when she saw a cocky smirk cross his lips when he stood fully upright.

"Want to make a bet on that?" he jeered, crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side. "I seem to recall our previous wager didn't exactly go in your favor, so I think I like these odds."

"Oh, you did NOT just bring that up!" she said with a sudden competitive edge to her voice.

"I most certainly did just bring that up. Is that a problem, Number Three?"

"Listen here Red, you scored better than me on the exam by one point! One! Point!" Mila jutted a single finger in his face for emphasis, though Alastor didn't so much as flinch. If anything he seemed perfectly pleased with himself. "Plus, you had a handicap! Don't go acting all high and mighty just cuz you got lucky!"

"Heh. Was I lucky, or did you just talk a bigger game than you ended up playing?" he retorted with a mocking tone and a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Psh, like your showing was any better? Puh-lease! I was practically falling asleep the entire time!"

"Ah, well that explains why you missed the part where I completely blew your little performance out of the water. Not that it was particularly hard to do, considering you were more interested in showing off for the crowd than actually fighting the monsters like a real hunter would."

"Oh, it is ON now!" Mila challenged, stepping up right into the hunter's face and aggressively jabbing her finger into his chest. "Say that again and I'll blow more than just your 'performance' out of the water, tough guy!"

"And is that a promise?"

"...Why don't we go up to my room and find out?" she hummed with a titillating smile, biting her lower lip sensuously while resting her whole hand against his chest. Not many people could keep up with her teasing like that, and Alastor showing that he could give as good as he got just made her heart race. She leaned in closer, bringing her lips close to his cheek, only for Alastor's hand to interrupt her partway.

"Now now, how about we keep this interesting?" he said with a cool and smooth tone, making her shudder like clear water was running down her shoulders and back. "Let's see who can find that map first. Winner gets to choose what happens afterwards."

"Heheh, you sly devil… turning this into a real win-win for yourself, huh? Alright, I'll bite." She gathered up most of the tubes of parchment she'd dropped on the table and bolted up the stairs in the blink of an eye, with Alastor trailing behind.

Step three was already within her grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please review! 
> 
> Sorry for the massive delay between chapters, I honestly completely forgot about AO3 until I got an email saying someone gave my story its very first kudos! So thanks to you, whoever you are--you've just gotten everyone on the site three catch up chapters!
> 
> I sometimes feel like exposition chapters where the characters just sit around and talk might not be very interesting, but I hope that the dialogue and set up for the rest of the arc that this chapter presented was enough to pique your curiosity, faithful reader! I certainly had fun writing it.
> 
> Despite the fact that I've been setting up this story to avoid having many teams of four hunters like all my previous stories did, I find a lot of entertainment in the dynamics of the Four Faces. Not exactly as a whole team, but how each individual member interacts with the others. Obviously Mila and Alastor was the one most on display here (and boy was that a lot of, er, 'characterization' going on), but expect others later down the line too.
> 
> Otherwise, I'll see you next time, faithful reader! Let me know what you thought of the chapter in the reviews!


	13. Clear Skies

Corvus whistled a cheery tune to himself as he strode down the main road towards the southern Guild gate. For once the city wasn't covered in grey clouds and a constant cascade of rain—the skies had actually cleared up, showing a pure blue expanse broken only by the occasional cloud of white. A sunny day in Ran Fos was certainly something that didn't happen often, so he'd have to make the most of it while following up on a few hunt reports.

He of course hadn't been the only one to enjoy the nice weather. Mila was up at the crack of dawn as usual, dragging her masked hunter friend out to the back alley to get in some sword practice before her daily jog with Falia. Corvus spared a few minutes to watch the two go at it while eating a quick breakfast, finding himself surprised that this Alastor guy was actually able to keep up with Mila to a degree. From what he'd heard about the Four Faces from Mercutio, Alastor was supposed to be the only one without any form of Hunting Sense or magic, which only baffled the surveyor further. For someone without any special powers, he sure as hell managed to keep up with Mila better than anyone else he'd seen.

He shook his head as he walked along through the already-crowded streets. It was surprising enough for him to come home a week prior and learn that Mila was letting this masked hunter sleep in their living room, but Corvus was more surprised that their father was completely okay with it too. Wes's reaction was more or less just saying 'please try to stay out of the same bed while I'm here' before cooking dinner for everyone as though Alastor had been living under their roof for years. Those two were just too trusting.

Continuing along through the puddle-strewn streets, Corvus briefly glanced down at his arm, flexing his hand within the sling. For as taxing as it was been to use his Hyper state, he was glad that he was familiar enough with it to accurately gauge his own recovery time. Another day or two and he could finally take the blasted thing off. He did have to admit he found it a little strange—he'd expected the healing process to take a little longer. He didn't want to admit that the first thing that came to mind was that charm Mila has given him, but if she actually was onto something with that magic rock mumbo jumbo, then he was glad to keep wearing it.

The surveyor frowned when he neared the Guild gate, noting that there were an awful lot of Guild Knights around today. Some were keeping guard while others were hastily coming and going from the gate. A small crowd of civilians had gathered off to the side, muttering amongst themselves while watching the Knights. It didn't take much for Corvus to understand that something big had happened. Putting a little more haste into his steps the surveyor approached the gate, flashing his badge to the Knights when it seemed like they were moving to block his path as they had a few civilians and hunters. He was greeted by the sight of even more Knights and several surveyors hurrying about once he made his way up the stairs.

He planned to get some answers from Viper, but quickly found that the Knight Captain was wrapped up in an important-sounding meeting. Considering it was a little too crowded to listen in he opted to find someone else to fill him in, and luckily Dominic's desk was only about twenty feet away.

"Nobody told me there was a party today," he said, greeting Dom with a short wave. "What's all this commotion about?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. The captain hasn't said anything to anyone who isn't a Knight or a senior surveyor," he shrugged, appearing just as displeased with his own answer as Corvus did. "If Ricard is feeling nice we might be able to hear from him, but until then I figure it's just business as usual for us."

"Well, that's annoying... but if we're lucky maybe we'll find out sooner rather than later."

The sound of the office door opening prompted the two to turn around, finding Ricard standing the the frame. His gaze trailed across the room before settling on the two of them, and the older surveyor motioned for them both to join him.

"How do you keep doing that?" Dom muttered as they shuffled towards the office, earning a short smirk from the surveyor. They filed into the office, finding that along with Ricard and the Captain, three veteran Knights were also there, each bearing a grim expression. Though their eyes were fixed on the surveyors, they said nothing—serious types, it seemed. Most Knights were.

"What's up, boss?" Corvus asked, glancing from the three figures to Viper, who was seated behind his desk with a look almost as dark as theirs.

"Nothing good. I'm going to need the both of you to tell me ANYTHING about the Fischer case that didn't make it into the final reports. I don't care how minuscule the details are. It doesn't even have to directly relate to the case—anything and everything you both figured out during the investigation."

"That's... quite a bit to remember," Dominic frowned. "May I ask what all this is about?"

"Only if you both swear to keep this confidential. I don't want anyone getting involved more than they need to be, and given the circumstances that includes the both of you up to a certain degree." The surveyors both agreed, and with an affirming nod Viper continued. "William Fischer was found dead in his cell."

"What?! But he was being held in—!"

"Yes Corvus, and that's precisely why I have an army of Knights combing the gate for any signs of infiltration. I think it should go without saying that this is an extremely delicate matter. Someone managed to get through all of our security detail, assassinate a prisoner, and escape the gate, all without drawing anyone's attention."

"That's just... that's absurd. The guard detail is flawless!" Dom argued, only to be silenced by Ricard clearing his throat.

"Nothing can ever be flawless. There'll always be these little holes called 'human error' that guys like this will take advantage of... But, I do see your point. Someone capable of sneaking past over a dozen of our Knights twice is... a problem."

"Are there any suspects? Is anyone in Ran Fos even capable of this?" Corvus asked.

"All available evidence found in the cell points to... a rather notorious criminal. We don't have any witnesses either. In light of this situation, I need to know if you came across ANYTHING that suggested Fischer had any outside association or affiliations with someone not already covered by the case."

"I, uh... I can't say I saw anything I didn't include in the report," Dominic said. "I didn't even step foot into the warehouse. That was all Ricard and Corvus."

"Told ya," the older surveyor shrugged when Viper glanced his way. The captain let out an annoyed sigh, but shifted his attention to Corvus upon noting his furrowed brow.

"I think I remember Fischer telling Saiba and Jim something... it was along the lines of 'the money I don't need will go to the facilities and employees'. I kinda figured there was an ulterior motive... and come to think of it, isn't a ton of zenni still missing? What if Fischer had a deal with this criminal, and getting captured meant he'd somehow broken the arrangement or become a liability?"

"That's not that bad of a theory. But why would someone like Fischer have any associations with..." The captain's voice trailed off as he fell into deep thought for a few moments. After a short deliberation he pointed towards two of the Knights. "Both of you, search Fischer's office and home. I'll get warrants lined up—I want anything and everything you can find that looks like private dealings."

"Yes Sir!"

"Captain, if I may ask... who exactly do you think Fischer got mixed up with?" Dominic stated while the Knights filed out, eyebrow lifting when both Viper's and Ricard's expressions darkened.

"Like I said, I'm not involving anyone with this case further than needed," the captain sighed. "For right now, all you both need to do is give me any additional information you have on Fischer. If there isn't anything else, then get back to the cases I've assigned you both. There's going to be a lot more work for everyone around here to do."

Despite the questions lingering in their minds, the surveyors knew better than to press Viper for more. Corvus and Dom shared a glance before walking back towards the exit. As he whipped the door open Corvus found a ginger-haired woman in a deep blue Guild courier outfit barreling into him with a surprised yelp, her own hand having been outstretched to grab for the knob. Both toppled to the floor in a heap, the surveyor's vision filled with stars after knocking his head against the floor.

"Ow... oh, my apologies! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, never better..." he groaned, shaking his vision clear and looking up at her. It took a moment or two to register that she was lying on top of him. "Huh. Usually I have to pay for dinner before this part."

That quip was met with a stinging slap to the face, and the courier immediately pushed herself up with an angered huff, striding over to the captain's desk.

"Agh... okay yeah, I deserved that," Corvus winced, rubbing at the red print on his face as he propped himself up with his elbow. The captain muttered something under his breath, though the surveyor only caught the word 'nostalgic'. Viper then fully turned his attention to the courier.

"My apologies for the sudden intrusion, Knight Captain," she said with a quick bow. "I'm Madison, from the Mistwood Guild. Captain Conrad sent me with an urgent missive meant for your eyes only."

The courier pulled a letter from her satchel and held it out to Viper, and after breaking the seal the captain quietly read the contents. His face went deathly pale before he was finished.

"Damn it... damn it all..."

* * *

Alastor winced as he massaged a tender spot on his shoulder, keeping his eyes glued to the area map spread across the table. He'd figured a bit of sword practice with Mila would at least help get the blood pumping, but she'd been unrelenting during their sparring match. Getting slapped by a dull metal blade wasn't as rough as being trampled by a charging wyvern, sure, but man did it sting. It could have been worse if he hadn't been able to react so well to her movements, but against her speed he could only keep up for so long. When it came to mind games he was definitely the superior, but today had been a stark reminder of why she was called Blade Princess.

Complaining about having a skilled ally beside him during the upcoming hunt for Tempest would be foolish, though. The Faces had only embarked on a single quest so far, hunting down a Yian Garuga that had been killing a lot of the local Kut-Ku population, which in turn led to one of the worst environmental threats any location could suffer—an unchecked Konchu population. Those neopterons tore up roads and paths, damaged vegetation, attacked hunters and caravans... the list went on. Fortunately that at least opened up a whole slew of quests for low rank hunters to take while the Yian Kut-Ku population recovered.

He'd paid close attention to his allies during the Garuga fight, gauging their capabilities along with his own and how they would best perform as a group. While he had predicted as much, Alastor was nonetheless frustrated by Zeke's complete disregard for team dynamics. He was so accustomed to solo hunting that he just constantly tried throwing out Focus attacks—devastating when they actually landed, sure, but the build up took much too long to make such liberal use of it, and every missed swing toppled trees or split the ground, making it that much harder for the others to move around. It was like a Najarala had decided to try its hand at professional landscaping. Couple that with the Yian Garuga's natural quickness, and he ended up only landing one blow the entire hunt. The killing blow, sure, but still only one.

Lowell was almost the complete opposite to Zeke. He readily adjusted for the others and positioned himself to be ready to cover them or block off their target's movements to create openings for the rest of them to take advantage of. That wasn't to say he was perfect, but given a little extra time to practice he'd be as close to flawless as possible. Alastor's main concern was that he didn't seem to use his Shield Sense all that much, so he couldn't gauge how helpful that would be.

And then of course, Mila. She was a mixed bag, to say the least. She was very willing to work with the others and follow his instructions, that much was true, but she was just so brazen and headstrong... and not to mention fast. Zeke and Lowell could barely account for where she'd be next, and her Radiance ability had the tendency to pull the target's attention towards her, leading to plenty of instances of her fighting the monster on her own while the rest of the team was left chasing after them. She agreed to tone it down a notch and stick closer to the group for their next hunt, but given the fact that she was always doing something Alastor was fairly sure she would forget by then.

Despite those flaws he truly believed they had the potential to make a great team, but there was still a lot of work to be done, all in less than two weeks no less. And considering their foe... The thought was nothing new to him, but things would not be easy. It would be more than technique and teamwork that saw them through a clash with Tempest.

Fortunately the Dragonwatch missives Mercutio had provided, along with some cross referencing with some texts about the land and Tempest itself he'd found at the city's library, gave him a good idea of where Tempest's roost was located. It was the area around the ruins of an ancient castle, supposedly dating back to before Ran Fos had even been constructed. Archaeologists surmised that the structure used to be positively massive, but based on the texts there wasn't really much of the castle itself that remained standing, save for some crumbling walls and a section of the main keep. If Tempest were to travel to this castle, he had a hunch that its lair was within that keep. The surrounding grounds were strewn with fragments of the dilapidated structure, or otherwise completely overgrown by the Everwood, making it a veritable hodge podge of terrain types and layers.

He sighed and pushed himself back into his seat, scratching at his chin in thought. As useful as all this information was, it still didn't provide him with an accurate enough picture of the predicted battlefield. Alastor hadn't really expected it too, but he'd hoped for a little more clarity... all this meant was that he'd need to take an expedition out there in advance.

He was startled from his thoughts by the sound of a mug clacking against the wooden side table to his left, almost jumping in his seat.

"Ah, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," Mila's father chuckled, motioning towards the mug. "You were real deep into that map, but I thought you could use something to drink. Figured coffee was more your speed."

"You would figure correctly. Thanks," he replied, picking up the mug. He lifted an eyebrow when he saw two sugar cubes and a small creamer next to it though—he didn't usually have the luxury of affording coffee, but the few times he did that was exactly what he preferred... and unless his nose deceived him, the brew smelled just like tropical berries from the desert. His favorite. How did he...?

"Gotta say, I'm surprised you wear that mask so much," Wes stated, walking across the room and lowering himself into a seat beside the fireplace. "Out in public I understand, but even when you sleep? That takes dedication."

"It got easier after awhile," he replied simply, mixing the drink with a spoon and blowing on the surface of the steaming liquid, frowning in annoyance as the visor fogged up.

"Doesn't the black crystal lens make it hard to see in the dark?"

"It's just an outer layer. I can see clear as day from this side, but it still helps block out bright lights and flashes. Doesn't do too well with steam though."

"Huh. Guess they've really improved on the design over the years. I wonder if they still make those armor grade wigs..." The man shrugged with a short chuckle. "Those smiths come up with the craziest things. I'm just wondering what we'll see next."

"The hunters are the real crazy ones. They're the ones who end up using that gear in life or death battles," Alastor replied. He took a sip from his mug and set it aside before leaning forwards to look over the map again. Wes likely wasn't done chatting with him, but he figured he could multitask well enough.

"Good point. Why not go for the full helmet though? It'd conceal your features better, and it's better protection. A friend of mine used to wear one all the time because of that."

"Helmets and I don't really get along. I end up taking way more blows to the head with one on than I do without. One means fewer concussions and less damaged equipment, which in turn means more available zenni for things other than hospital bills and repairs."

"I've heard worse justifications. Thinking back I kinda wish I'd just worn a helmet back in the day considering all the times I got slugged in the face. Course, that was just the price of looking stylish."

"Ah. So that's where Mila gets it from."

"Kids pick up a lot from their parents. She kinda went out of her way to pick up that particular trait, but that doesn't hurt my point much. For instance, you're as smart as your mother and as hardworking as your father."

Alastor paused at that statement, his eyes flicking up towards Wes. The man sat with his head propped up by a closed hand, a knowing expression on his face. Alastor shifted in his seat uncomfortably, glancing towards the mug to his left, then back down to his hands.

"I... suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he said with a frown. "It certainly explains why you were fine with letting me stay here. Do they know?"

"Not yet. But a letter's gonna be on the way this afternoon. Might help ease their minds a bit. They've been worried sick about you, you know."

The hunter said nothing for a time, keeping his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Many thoughts ran through his mind, and twice as many questions, but one came to mind first;

"What has she told you?"

"Not much. Pretty much just the classic story of a runaway kid with his own reasons for doing what he did. Any chance you'd be willing to explain further?" Alastor half-consciously glanced at his arm wrapped in bandages, but otherwise he remained silent. Wes let out a short sigh after a brief silence filled the room. "You know, unlike my daughter I'm actually pretty good at keeping secrets. You can trust me."

"I know I can. My mother always had good things to say about you. But this is not something I can share," he stated solemnly. "Many things happened that neither she nor I wished did, but I'm stuck with the consequences regardless. And that... is all you need to know."

"I see. Well, it must've been serious for all the lengths you went to hide your identity. So, I'll make a deal with you. I promised your mother I'd tell her anything I found out about your whereabouts, and I'm assuming there's a reason you both haven't been trying to write each other letters, so if you give me a message for her, I won't press the matter any more."

"...Very well. Tell her I hope she and father are doing well, and that I think often of coming back."

"Not gonna say 'I'll see you soon' or anything like that?"

"I wouldn't want to give them false hope."

"Huh, well you're a real bag of cheer, aren't you," Wes muttered, scribbling down his words on a small piece of paper. He then got to his feet, stretching for a moment before heading towards the kitchen. He stopped a couple paces from the other room though, turning his head towards the hunter. "I guess there is one other part to the deal..."

"And that would be?" Alastor asked, brow narrowing with a healthy amount of scrutiny. Wes didn't seem the type to blackmail him or anything, but Alastor hadn't gotten by for this long by being overly trusting of others.

"Look out for my daughter. On this big elder dragon hunt of yours, I mean. Mila's a fine huntress and I trust her skills completely—she's a lot better than I was at her age—but when it comes to hunting all it takes is one mistake... one mistake that costs you everything. This family doesn't need any more heartache."

Wes' expression was mostly hidden from Alastor's view, but the hunter could tell from his tone alone just how deeply his concerns went. He probably didn't even want her to go on this hunt in the first place, but he felt it wasn't his place to keep her from doing so. Wes was a man who had experienced loss and wished to never experience it again. Beneath the friendly smiles and light-hearted language, he was hurting deeply.

With a short sigh Alastor sat back in his chair, resting his hands in his lap with fingers steepled. "Mila isn't the one our group needs looking out for the most... but I'm not losing anyone out there. If there's something I can do to keep her safe, then I'll do it. You have my word."

"That's all I ask. Thank you, Cyrus."

With that Wes strode out of the room, leaving the red-haired hunter to his studies, and to his old memories.

"Haven't been called that in a while..." Alastor murmured, flipping open an ecology book and taking a long swig from his mug before diving back into his research.

* * *

"Alright, so how about this," Jyl began, setting down her drink and glancing between the two seated opposite from her. "You get to switch bodies with someone else for an entire day. Would ya?"

"Absolutely!" Mila giggled excitedly, leaning forwards in her seat and shooting Falia a coy smirk. "It'd be fun to take your body for a spin, Sweetheart!"

"Wha-?! Why me specifically?!"

"Think about it! I'd still be super cute, and I could eat whatever I wanted and not have to worry about my figure at all! And speaking of figure, heheh... yours."

"Can you PLEASE not?" the handler groaned, though Mila just laughed and shook her head.

"I was just gonna say it'd be fun to be short for a day! You're like a whole head shorter than me!"

"Oh, well I guess that's—"

"But since you brought it up, I guess it would be cool to feel what being three cup sizes larger is like too."

Falia's face went beet red at that remark, leading her to blubber some form of retort with an embarrassed stutter before burying her head in her arms on the table below, earning amused laughs from the two huntresses. During their morning jog Mila and Falia had run into Jyl and her Palico, the oddly light pink-furred Valentine, and Jyl invited them to breakfast at a nearby cafe. The place she'd recommended, Gilver's Galley, had an outdoor patio that usually was covered with a sail-like canopy to keep dry from the usual rain, but since the weather was so nice that for once the cover was pulled back, letting them enjoy the bright blue skies and warm rays of the sun overhead. It was tucked away from the main roads so there wasn't even much foot traffic, but it was still a great place to do some people watching, and the tea selection was top notch. Mila just wished that the menu didn't have so much fish on it, though that seemed to be Val's favorite part about this place. He was currently sunbathing in Jyl's lap while they spoke, clearly disinterested in the conversation taking place. From what Mila had seen he was about the laziest Palico ever, more a house cat than anything.

"Alright, I guess that's enough of that game! So Mila, how's that conquest of yours going?" the other huntress asked with an inquisitive smirk. Jyl was as much of a chatty gossip as ever, it seemed... but then again it was common knowledge that the other Faces were in the city by now, so Mila wasn't really surprised that she knew. No one had figured out the real reason though—as far as everyone else cared it was just four long-time friends getting back together to hang out and do some hunting.

"Alastor's still being stubborn... and not to mention  _lucky_. He keeps winning all of our bets, but instead of taking the initiative like literally any other guy would, he's always just like 'I'd love a new shirt' or 'Minegardian food sounds nice today'," she said with a faux imitation of the charge blade user's voice. "So sailing hasn't been as smooth as I hoped... But I got to whack him a couple times with a practice sword earlier, so that was a nice little outlet."

"Wow. I've heard he's shrugged off ladies all over the country, but he's even managing to resist the self-proclaimed Irresistible Huntress? No wonder you're so keen on this guy! People always want what they can't have."

"Hey, I know he wants me! He just doesn't know it yet."

"Maybe if you stopped throwing yourself at him like a Tigrex jumping an Aptonoth you might actually get somewhere," Falia stated bluntly, shifting her head so her yellow eyes could peer out over her arms at the huntress. "You're coming on  _way_  too strong. Like always."

"Oh come on, you're just exaggerating. Name one time!"

"You flirted with that guy in Yukumo so much a couple years back that he passed out and nearly drowned in a hot spring. Same thing with that surfer dude in Cheeko Sands during our vacation last year. Then there was that smith girl in Harth who freaked out and almost ran into a pool of lava, that Wyverian researcher who was half a step from falling off the airship over the Great Desert, the hunter who—"

"Okay okay okay, sheesh! Point taken. How would you go about wooing a guy then?"

"Me? You know I don't do that!"

"Then you've got no room to judge me, Sweetheart!"

"Ugh, I dunno, find some mutual interests I guess! What do you both have in common?"

"Hmmmm... Well, we're both hot, and we're both complete badasses... and that's about everything that comes to mind right this second."

"Truly the only chemistry a healthy romance needs," Jyl snickered, taking a swig from her tea and motioning towards Falia. "She makes a great point though. Just figure out something you both like and build up from there. Take it slow."

"Hah! 'Mila' and 'slow' are two words that shall always be separated by 'is not'!"

"And that thinking is exactly why he's been able to play you like a deck of cards."

Having no retort to that, the huntress simply folded her arms and grumbled sourly to herself. She liked to think she'd been playing it off well enough, but in actuality few things had frustrated her more in her life. She'd need a new approach. Maybe one involving copious amounts of alcohol and a game of strip poker. Surely that big brain of his couldn't function as well after enough shots of Rath Whisky, right? But no, if she was going to get the dramatic unmasking she wanted, she'd have to do it honestly. If it wasn't for her own mental image of how things would go she could just swipe it before he could react, and that would be no fun at all.

She quietly mulled over her next plan of attack while idly chatting with the others about whatever topic came up, their conversation only briefly being interrupted by the waiter bringing their food out. Perhaps she could figure something out during their next hunt together later that week—Falia has gotten her hands on a quest for a Hyper Green Nargacuga that had been ambushing caravans for a while now, earning the nickname 'Verdant Flash' from a bunch of locals. That would be a thrilling challenge for her and the others for sure.

"Hey Mila, isn't that Klavier over there?" Jyl asked, shaking the huntress from her thoughts. She glanced across the patio and onto the street where Jyl was pointing—sure enough, the hunting horn user was walking down the path towards the cafe. He seemed... off, though. Like his legs were unsteady, given how he lightly swayed from side to side with each step. She lifted her brow and pushed up from her seat, walking to the edge of the patio and leaning over the rail separating it from the cobblestone street.

"Hey Klavier! Don't have a hangover, do ya?"

Her callout seemed to surprise the hunter into pausing, though his expression seemed no less shocked and... haunted, than it had before. He wordlessly looked her way, then glanced down at a crumpled sheet of paper grasped firmly in his right hand. Mila thought she could see a Guild insignia on the header.

"Everything cool, partner?"

Klavier opened his mouth to reply, but the words just didn't come out. After a few moments of struggling he opted to just step towards her and hold the paper out, which Mila took and carefully uncrumpled to read. It was easy for her to tell that the writing was in Knight Captain Viper's handwriting. She gasped when her eyes landed on one line in particular;

'It is with a heavy heart that I have to say Demitri was killed on his latest assignment.'

"Oh no... your brother?" she murmured, looking up at the hunter. Klavier failed to meet her gaze. Mila finished reading the letter before hopping over the rail and trying to comfort him with a hug—he was still rigid with shock, but the gesture seemed to at least partially shake him out of it. She pulled away after a few moments and grabbed his hand, leading him back towards the table the others were at. "Come on and sit with us, alright? I'll get you something to drink."

He whispered a 'thanks' in reply, but didn't say much else even after joining the others, leaving Mila to explain what had happened—Demitri had gone missing during a classified assignment in the neighboring town of Mistwood, and his body had only just been found by a Ran Fos surveyor sent to investigate his whereabouts with the Mistwood Knights. His wounds were... severe, to say the least. The letter didn't go into the details more than it had to, but it was more than enough to understand the brutality of the situation. Mila sat close to the hunter's left, keeping an arm wrapped around his shoulders in an effort to comfort him while Falia and Jyl looked over the letter for themselves.

An uneasy silence hung in the air between them, each trying to think of the right words to say. Of course there was the 'I'm so sorrys' and 'we're here for yous', but that hardly seemed enough to console Klavier. He mostly just kept quiet, mumbling halfhearted responses whenever the others said something. His tea went untouched, having long grown cold before Mila sighed and pushed herself up.

"Here, I'll walk you back to your place," she said, patting his shoulder comfortingly. "Sound good?"

"Yeah, sure..." he muttered, standing up as well. Mila dropped some zenni on the table to pay for her meal and his drink, then began to head towards the street with Klavier only a couple steps behind.

She kept her pace even with Klavier's as they walked along back towards the hunter's apartment, which fortunately was as simple as heading towards one of the main roads and getting a taxi wagon to drive them over that way. Much of the trip was predictably silent, but as they were heading down the empty street towards the housing complex he lived in Klavier at last spoke up.

"What am I supposed to  _do_?" he sighed, coming to a halt a short distance from the building, causing Mila to stop and turn towards him. "Why... why did this have to happen? He was a good person. He didn't deserve this. What am I going to say to his wife, his kid? It's all just so..."

"I wish I could say I knew the answers, but I don't. Better not to worry too much about all that though—just focus on yourself for right now, okay?"

"...You once told me that you lost your mother a long time ago, right? How did you deal with that?"

"Uh, that's... if I'm being totally honest, I don't really know how. I just sort of... did," she replied, briefly glancing off to the side. She never really put much thought into that. "I guess I had to, for Dad and Corvus' sake. That's... probably not great advice though."

"No, it's... it's fine," he sighed, shaking his head dejectedly. "It'd be dumb to think I could manage as easily as you do."

"Klavier... listen, I know it's a little cliché and all, but I'm here for you, okay?" Mila said while placing her hand on his shoulder and smiling softly. "I'll help you through this. So if you need anything, don't be a stranger."

"Thanks... I'll let you know if anything comes up."

With that the hunter bid her farewell and made his way into the building. Mila watched after him for a few moments longer, then began to make her way back home. She never liked seeing any of her friends like this, but she knew from experience that Klavier's loss wasn't something he'd just get over with a talk or two. It had been years since her mother died, but her father and brother still hadn't fully coped with the loss yet. But, if she could be strong for them, she could be strong for Klavier too.

But the question remained—who could do something so horrible?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Please review! I won't say a whole lot here since I'm dropping these chapters in rapid succession, but I still hope you found it good! I'm having fun with these dialogue-heavy exchanges between characters. Heritors is a bit of an experiment with voice, so I hope their lines resonate well with you! Needless to say the somewhat-raunchier humor has been entertaining for me. That doesn't mean the story will be without its serious moments… in fact, enjoy the humor while you can. Muhaha.


	14. Nightfall

Corvus quietly studied the notes in his hands, barely able to keep his composure. This was the last job of a rather busy day for him, and one that had been dropped into his lap rather suddenly at that. The other surveyor who'd been originally been assigned to this one had gotten pulled onto another assignment by the captain, so when the local officers had brought the offender in Corvus was about the only one around to handle the questioning. After a quick review of the case notes and a brisk walk across the gate's span he found himself in one of the interrogation rooms, where a hunter in a strange suit of light-pink armor and a bucket helm sat waiting patiently, seated straight and proper with his hands neatly folded in front of him.

Why they had allowed him to continue wearing a full suit of plate mail perplexed him, but there was a Knight just outside the door in case the guy got violent. That... didn't seem likely to happen, however.

"So let me make sure I have a clear understanding here," Corvus began. "You read an article about those Riders in Gildegaran, and decided you wanted to ride a pet monster yourself."

"Yep."

"And so you went out on an expedition to find a monster den to pilfer an egg."

"Yeah."

"And after you somehow managed to not get mauled to death by a Great Wroggi and its pack, you had a friend ropelift the egg into the city at night to get around the guards at the gates."

"More or less."

"Then, after all that trouble, you decided the best way to hatch said egg was to hit it repeatedly with a brick, which somehow worked—"

"Article said to tap the egg with a hard object."

"—so your first thought after letting a baby monster loose in your living room was to attempt to ride it."

"Article said they grow fast."

"I'm sure it did. So after predictably crushing the young Wroggi to death you thought it would be a smart idea to pitch its bleeding carcass out the window into a garbage can two stories down in the back alley, scaring the crap out of the whole neighborhood and nearly causing a panic."

"Well I don't know anything about a panic..." the hunter grunted, attempting to rub his chin in thought through the bucket helm he wore. "So what's the verdict, chief?"

"The verdict? The 'verdict' is that this is without a doubt the most fucked up case in my career thus far," the surveyor replied, jotting down the last line into his notepad with a flourished drag of his pencil. "I'm eager to go home and repress every single thing you just told me."

"That sounds nice."

Corvus felt his eye twitch, but otherwise he managed to keep a straight face. Either this guy was high, or he'd suffered a few too many knocks to the head during his time as a hunter. He was so easygoing and polite that Corvus almost wished for the usual rough-and-tumble types that tried to throw punches when they got called out. At least with those ones he didn't feel bad about the fines. This guy was so nice it was outright disturbing.

"You're staying here overnight," he sighed, stacking his papers into a folder and pushing himself up. "Tomorrow one of the higher-ups will review these case notes and decide on what fines and charges these infractions will incur."

"Okay. Have a good night, Mister Corvus."

The surveyor tried not to collect his things too quickly before exiting the room, telling the Guild Knight he was done with the interrogation (if it could even be called that). Striding up the steps and across the span of the Guild gate, he glanced out the windows lining the hall, noting from the darkened skies that once again it was a lot later than he usually worked.

The last couple days had been much the same. Viper had pulled several surveyors onto his mystery case, leaving more work for those who weren't involved with it. Obviously something that had ended up getting one of their own killed had to be a big deal, but Corvus couldn't help but feel like the captain was pooling too many resources into this. Sure, he didn't have a great idea of what the threat actually was, but from what little he had managed to pick up from listening around it just sounded like one guy was behind it. Did that really need nearly half the team and a combined effort with a neighboring town's force?

For as skeptical as he was though, Corvus couldn't help but feel an insatiable curiosity as well. Someone who earned themselves this much attention from the Guild had to be incredibly notorious—perhaps even case of the century material! If such a villain were truly running around, then perhaps Corvus joining the force only a short time before was just proof that he was meant to be on this case.

Of course, that was just in his mind. Viper was keeping him uninvolved due to his inexperience, leaving more of the regular cases in his care instead. Some were certainly a step up from the usual hunt report follow-ups he'd been doing, and to a degree that kept him tided over, but that would only remain true for so long... Corvus eagerly awaited his opportunity to join on.

That thought in mind, he stepped into the mostly-dark workspace and strode over to the case submission box, dropping his report into it. One of Viper's lieutenants would finalize it. Corvus then made his way over to his desk, stifling a yawn as he walked. It was odd seeing the space so empty after all the hustle and bustle of the last few days. Only a couple other surveyors were still working, too engrossed in whatever their cases were to pay him much mind. Upon reaching his desk Corvus sighed, seeing that another assignment had been dropped onto him while he was busy with the interrogation.

/Might as well see what it's all about/ he thought, flipping open the folder. No way he was starting on this tonight, but taking an early look couldn't hurt. At first he'd been disappointed to see that it looked like just another hunt report, but a quick read through showed it was looking more like a bust. Some high rank hunter by the name of Griffin Fargus had a bit of a criminal record—stolen carves, assaulting other hunters and even Guild personnel... and to top it all off he was apparently a complete sleaze. Seemed he and a gang of buddies had decided to make a tavern in eastern Ran Fos their stomping ground, so Corvus had a few arrests to make. Were it not written at the bottom in bright

red ink, Corvus would have just assumed use of force was authorized; given the guy's file there didn't look like there'd be a way around a fight. He'd have to get some back up though—the force was spread thinly, so at best he could only hope for a few officers, which... didn't seem too great. Griffin didn't have any Hunting Sense like Saiba did, but having half a dozen hunter friends backing him up wasn't much worse.

"Meh, I'll put some more thought into it tomorrow," he mumbled, sliding the folder into his bag. As far as he was concerned his Sunday off was well-deserved, and with Mila off on a late night hunt with the Faces that meant he could probably sleep in for once. As he reached for his coat though he noticed a letter had been dropped onto his desk as well—given the neat and proper cursive he could only guess it was from Isaac. He tore open the letter to read the contents, stretching his legs out to the side of his desk as he did.

_Corvus,_

_A fire has been lit within me as of late, and that fire has blazed into my creations! I have done it, my friend! I believe I have completely perfected the brace design for absorbing Jeopardy's recoil! The final test requires its presence, so as soon as you are able, please come to my workshop!Complimentary snacks will be provided._

_Make haste, Corvus! Progress waits for no one!_

_Isaac Dalton_

_P.S. I am in dire need of some advice about a matter of particular sensitivity. Haste, Corvus! Haste!_

Corvus lifted his brow upon finishing, shrugging and sliding the letter into his bag as well. Isaac sure did seem fired up about this... not that it didn't pique his curiosity of course. Isaac always liked working on Jeopardy. The gun was his passion project of several years, beginning as an attempt to create a weapon for the average merchant or caravaneer that could fend off wyverns. Unfortunately he initially tackled the project with a little too much zeal and forgot to account for recoil absorption, which ended up breaking his arm at a point where he couldn't really afford the medical costs. He put up the blueprints for sale to cover the costs, and the Guild predictably gobbled those up for usage in its own weapons development, but Corvus bought the prototype before the Guild could to help Isaac pay for his treatment and to allow him to keep working on the design.

Drawing the revolver to inspect it, Corvus couldn't help but feel a little bad that he didn't use it as much as his friend probably wanted it to be. Not that he wanted to shoot people or anything, but most everyone was frightened into complacency just seeing him pull the oversized gun. It was a wonderful deterrent, but in his kind of work Corvus never had to deal with the monsters the weapon was originally designed to combat. It had certainly been a help against the Ludroths in the sewers back before his promotion, but otherwise...

He shook his head and slid the gun back into its holster after giving it a quick twirl. Isaac's letter had a few more exclamation points in it than Corvus was used to seeing, and the only 'matter of particular sensitivity' he ever mentioned was his crush on Falia, so Isaac was probably every bit as fired up as the message implied. Corvus knew better than to keep an Alchemist hunter waiting.

A light drizzle greeted the surveyor once again as he stepped out of the gate. The clear skies from a few days before had only lasted from sunrise to sunset, and from then the weather was back to its usual course. Pulling his hood overhead the surveyor began his trek towards Isaac's workshop, idly glancing around as he walked. It wasn't terribly late, yet there were surprisingly few people out on the streets right now. Mostly just hunters or pedestrians with late night errands, it seemed. Perhaps it was word of what happened at the southern gate with Fischer—that had certainly stirred up some hysteria about the local boogeyman called Enigma. Corvus didn't put much stock in the myths, feeling it was just a little too absurd to think someone could outlive even Wyverians just to go on a several-century-long killing spree. Similar killings happened from time to time, but given the lack of suspects and witnesses it was much easier to believe a copycat had just emulated the legends.

Even still, the legend alone was usually enough to leave everyone on their toes. A big maneuver like this had just added another layer of tension to the air, one even thicker than the dense morning fogs.

The surveyor continued on towards Isaac's workshop, though much to his surprise the door had flung open before he'd knocked more than thrice. He barely had time to let out a surprised yip before the Alchemist pulled him inside.

"It's about time you got here! I've been waiting for hours!" Isaac said, a sort of urgency to his tone. "What kept you?"

"Work. My hours are more of a suggestion at this point." Corvus frowned for a moment then, glancing down at Isaac's outfit. Rather than his usual work clothes or armor, he had a mess of decidedly nice clothing on—black slacks, shiny brown leather shoes, a yellow dress shirt, even a haphazardly-angled polka dot bow tie. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Didn't you read my letter?! I need your help!"

"Okay...?"

"Alright, so here's the thing. You know Falia, right? Actually don't answer that, it was a dumb question. She came knocking a couple days ago asking if I would set up an expedition for her and Mila's team. I don't know why, but I was all seized up so I didn't ask. Anyways, I said yes on the condition that she let me take her on a date."

_Oh no._

"I-it was a joke! Sort of! Okay maybe not entirely or at all... Bah, you know what I mean!" Corvus grunted as Isaac clasped his hands over both of his shoulders and began to shake the surveyor back and forth. "She actually agreed though! Falia said yes! But I never thought I'd get this far! So I'm completely lost on what to wear or say or do or any of that! But I swear by the Book of Combos I will not be able to live with myself if I mess this up—so HELP ME."

"Alright alright, calm down! Giving me whiplash isn't going to help anyone!" Corvus half-grunted, half-pleaded, breaking the Alchemist's grip on his shoulders before rubbing his neck with an irate grimace. "Man, you are taking this way too seriously..."

"Am I not supposed to be?"

"I mean, yes, but also no. Look, there's a delicate balance at work here, like—actually wait, dating advice later. Your letter was about Jeopardy."

"Hmm? Oh yes, of course! Here, follow along," the Alchemist said, immediately changing tone and hurrying into the next room. Corvus followed him into the fifty-foot long space—one end was as messy as the rest of the workshop, while the other was cleared away of most debris save for those of a few broken targets and spent bullets. They both usually referred to this room as the range, for obvious reasons. Isaac led him over to a cluttered table, excitedly lifting a two-sectioned arm brace and holding it out towards Corvus. "Try this on. It should fit snugly."

Corvus did as the Alchemist said, pulling the straps on the brace tightly to secure it to his right arm. The upper section tightened just above his bicep while the lower looped around his palm. He frowned at how simple it was to move and bend his arm though. It didn't feel as though this thing offered as much support as Corvus thought it should. Taking note of his expression, Isaac let out a short laugh.

"Worry not! I intentionally designed this brace so it wouldn't be a hassle to wear it during standard day to day activities."

"Okay, so how does it actually absorb the shock then? I'm not firing until I'm convinced it won't crack my arm in half."

"A fair request. Well, first and foremost the idea behind this version of the brace was not to just absorb the force of recoil on its own. That proved far too difficult to do regularly and wore down the brace, or ended up being much too large and unwieldy, as you may recall from previous versions. So, I instead chose a design that works WITH the shooter's arm. See, because of Jeopardy's weight and power compared to the typical Guild officer's revolver, the force generated from each shot hits the body harder. The momentum travels down the arm starting from the hand, then moving down the forearm to the elbow, and then up the bicep to the shoulder, where the torso can adequately disperse and mitigate the shock," Isaac explained, gradually moving his hand further up his other arm as he spoke. "The issue has been getting the shock from hand to body without breaking the road between on the way.

"My original idea was to strengthen the limb with a supportive mechanism, but after doing some more research on various weapons and the Gear monsters, I came up with a new idea. Conceptually the problem I was trying to solve was similar to the one that ailed the older models of quickdraw longswords. The technology was always compact enough to fit into a scabbard, but it wasn't until a few years ago that weapon modders began to fit layers of muscle into the scabbards as well. These muscles were first taken from the gullets of Plesioths, but later it was found that Gear Rays have a substantially more powerful structure, making theirs the more desirable of the two. The fibers that make them up mitigate the shock generated by launching the blade, removing one factor in the difficulty of using those weapons. It still requires great skill and precision to catch the blade without injury or missing it entirely, but that's not my concern."

"Uh huh... wait, back up a sec. Are you saying I'm wearing a sleeve that used to be a monster's throat?"

"Hah! As if I could hunt enough Rays to gather the materials necessary. No, I used my Reeker to create a revolutionary new synthetic foam that mimics the musculature of the Ray's gullet!"

"...How?"

"Unimportant for the purpose of this explanation. Anyways, this foam accomplishes about the same thing as a quickdraw scabbard, absorbing the shock and 'regurgitating' the recoil back into the body the same way a Ray or a Plesioth fires its pressurized water beam. It's a sort of reversal of that process, but the idea is very much the same."

"So how does it 'work with' me?" Corvus asked, looking over the brace with a raised eyebrow.

"I was getting to that. See, for as powerful as the foam is, I knew it could not absorb all the recoil on its own and still maintain the compact size I was going for. But the manner in which the recoil of a revolver can be absorbed is different from the standard bowgun or repeater flintlock. During my travels I observed a number of gunslingers who utilized revolvers and took specific note of their techniques. Most of the top-level shooters tend to twist their elbows while firing, simultaneously absorbing the recoil and keeping the barrel level. That's where the idea for a two-section design came from," Isaac continued, gesturing towards the circular connecting mechanisms on either side of Corvus' arm. "The connecting wheels encourage the arm to bend and twist at the elbow in that specific way, helping pick up any slack the foam cannot; this effectively transfers the energy past the elbow without harm."

"So my arm isn't stronger with this on, it's just more like a... spring?"

"The actual physics behind it are far more complex, but I suppose that is an adequate way of looking at it. So, have I convinced you?"

"I mean, that all makes enough sense, but isn't that all just in theory? You haven't tested it yet?"

"How could I conduct final testing without you here? You have the gun."

Corvus sighed with a shrug, reaching back for Jeopardy. "Alright, I'll give it a shot, but if this thing fails I'll be very unhappy with you."

"I believe I can live with that."

Flipping open the break action revolver, Corvus slid a few rounds into the cylinder while across the range Isaac set up a metal torso plate on a stand, the kind anyone could buy from an armory for dirt cheap. The hunter hurried on out of the way right as Corvus fitted on a thick pair of noise-blocking ear covers, and after both were properly equipped Corvus aimed Jeopardy at the target, doing his best to ignore his racing heart. He trusted Isaac a lot, sure, but there was a very real chance this experiment would break his arm. Predictably that made him hesitate for a few seconds. He let out a deep breath to compose himself, then began to pull the trigger.

_Lucky Star, gimme a hand here._

The round rocketed out of the barrel loudly enough that Corvus still felt it through his ear covers. He felt his arm bend back from the recoil, twisting to his side just like Isaac had said. The bullet struck the target's upper right shoulder, punching a walnut-sized hole through the metal like it was nothing and knocking the stand a couple yards back into the floor, filling the space with the noise of clanging metal. The surveyor blinked in half-surprise, glancing over his arm—the sensation of the foam brace rippling over his arm as it absorbed and dispersed the shock was... odd, to say the least, but 'painful' was far from the first word to come to mind.

He looked to the right as Isaac stepped over to inspect the brace, probably looking for any tears or damage. Apparently finding none, he gestured for Corvus to hold his fire until he set up more targets. The following two rounds were still fired with some caution, but by the final three he had enough confidence in the brace to hardly pause between shots, knocking down each armor stand with a fresh hole punched through the metal playing with a wide grin.

"Alright, this is fantastic," Corvus said after removing his ear covers. "You really outdid yourself this time around."

"And this is only the beginning! I plan to test this foam for many, many other applications. The possibilities are endless! I would like to continue testing the brace though, just to make sure the foam holds up."

"Don't have to ask me twice. I don't get as many chances to fire this baby as I'd like," the surveyor chuckled, reaching back for a few more shots to load. Isaac stopped him with a wave of his hand though.

"I had nearly forgotten! You once said it was difficult to use Jeopardy while on the job because of how powerful the rounds are, so I made a few specialized non-lethal shots I'd like for you to try out. They should still hit hard, but I do not believe they will pierce armor or skin at a certain distance. That way you should be able to use Jeopardy for more... pedestrian purposes."

"Great, so I can shoot someone without crippling them for life. Deterrence only works so well after all, 'specially if they call your bluff."

"I'm also still working on condensing the elemental properties of bowgun shots into the calibur of round Jeopardy uses, but I've run into a few obstacles."

"Man, you're just cranking out the tech lately, ain'tcha?"

"Indeed, and I'd be more than happy to let you hold onto it after testing... provided you help me with my, ahem, 'girl problem'."

"Right, right... well, first things first. Falia always denies it when someone points it out, but she loves food more than life itself. Next up, lose the bow tie—everyone in her family hates Polka dots. Never really understood why. Also, whatever you do, you'd better make sure that you..."

* * *

"...thank me for sticking my neck out for you all THAT FAR," Falia grumbled over Mila's earpiece, earning an amused smirk from the huntress. "Don't think I can't see that dopey grin! I'm being serious! They always smell like those stinky barrels they carry around, and—"

"Yes, you've said it four times now. We're grateful for your sacrifice. Now, could you maybe keep the chatter down until after the job's done?" Alastor's cool voice of reason cut in, making the Handler relent with a sigh of frustration.

Mila was currently in an open clearing at the base of a long, gradually sloping cliff. It seemed a large section had broken away a long time ago, spilling boulders into the Everwood and forcibly carving this clearing out in the process. Many decayed tree stumps and roots jutted forth from the ground below, creating a bumpy floor beneath the overgrowth above. The canopies of the trees seemed to lurch towards the single opening, as though reaching for the dark and cloudy sky above.

It seemed a fine place for Alastor's plan, but Mila was more interested in... well, everything else. The grass was thick and lively, so there was a lot of evidence that Kelbi and other herbivores grazed here. There were several nulberry bushes off to the left, while a vibrant flower patch blossomed to her right. Since the rain barely made it through the canopy, flashbugs were idly floating around the area, casting orbs of yellow light throughout the space. Even amidst the shimmering noise of the drizzling rain falling onto the leaves overhead, she could hear the creek she had passed on the way here off in the distance behind her. Lounging atop a long, slanted stone, her water element longsword Manami propped up beside her, Mila could take in all the sights and sounds around her, idly listening in on the others, though she had tuned them out to a degree. The setting was just too captivating.

Her eyes flicked sideways as the sensation of a large creature brushing against the outer range of Awareness twinged through her mind, disappearing almost as soon as it had come. It had been stalking her for a couple miles now, drawn in close by Radiance and watching her from a safe distance, though never once attacking or making itself known beyond the silence caused by small nightlife vacating the surrounding area. To her credit, Mila thought she did an extraordinary job pretending she hadn't noticed it, and based on the creature's growing boldness she must've had it fooled—perhaps now it was checking the surrounding forest for any traps or ambushes, or a good vantage point to pounce at her from. Alastor had thought as much.

The answer to that was immediate—a deep green shape burst out of the tree line to her right, a guttural hiss escaping its jaws as a large pair of bladed firearm wings and two rows of razor sharp teeth bore down on her in a flash. The huntress responded by sweeping her legs around and striking her longsword's grip to knock the weapon up into the air, then kicking upwards just as she pushed her arms against the stone to vault off its surface. The Green Nargacuga known as the Verdant Flash sailed under her by only a foot or two, its piercing orange eyes meeting her silvery-diamond blue for the brief second they had.

As her attacker flew past Mila completed a corkscrew turn, grabbing hold of Manami's sheath and drawing the wave-backed blue blade from within. She flipped once to right herself as she dropped to the ground, throwing the sheath onto her back for the magnet to hold in place just before making a three-point landing with her long sword resting over her shoulder. The Nargacuga had landed on the other side of the area, turning its head to face her with a confused growl as the huntress rose to her feet, a hearty laugh escaping her lips.

"Thought you could sneak up on me? Keep dreaming, pussy cat!" Mila goaded, taking a couple leisurely steps to the right. She came to a pause, lifting her sword and swiftly swiping a line through the soil in front of her with Manami, kicking up a bright splash of shimmering water element. Clutching the grip with her other hand, Mila leveled the blade beside her head with the tip aimed at the wyvern as it turned fully to face her. "Now c'mon! Takes two t' tango!"

The Verdant Flash stamped its talons into the earth and reared its head back, a smoky red and black haze forming around its head and spiked tail before it let out an ear-splitting screech that shook the foliage around it. Having made its retort the Nargacuga wasted no time in flinging itself to the left, claws cleaving through soil as it landed beside her and attempted to snap its jaws at her waist. Mila deftly sidestepped the attempt, whirling to the side and ducking under its left wing. She dealt a rising slash to its side before darting ahead, switching her lead grip on the longsword and swiping a shallow gash into the creature's tail.

Clearly irritated, the Nargacuga swept its Hyper-imbued lash to and fro, though Mila ducked under the first sweep and cartwheel flipped over the second, switching grip and slashing the tail once more as she vaulted out of range. The green-furred beast leapt up before she could follow up, however, beating its wings once to propel itself back over her head and into the center of the area. The huntress rested Manami over her left shoulder as she turned, smirking as she sensed another presence behind her, this one far smaller and much more human-shaped. The Verdant Flash growled ferociously and gnashed its teeth at her challengingly, to which Mila replied by lifting Manami and turning about, whipping the longsword at the creature with a grunt of effort.

With a hiss of surprise the beast darted to the side, only being clipped by the sharp edge as it whirled past, burying itself into a tree stump some yards away. Seeing an opening with her unarmed, the Verdant Flash then pounced at the huntress, but she darted out of the way again, drawing Bloom and slashing the creature's back left leg.

Rather than press the attack however, Mila fired her grappling line up into the canopy, zipping up and out of the way as the Hyper wyvern looked back at her.

"Later, sucker!"

It was then that Lowell crashed out of the foliage in front of the beast, letting out a forceful shout as he charged ahead and slammed his shield directly into its face when it turned towards him. The Agnaktor-armored hunter's sudden attack succeeded in driving the creature back a few paces with a shriek of pain and shock. He followed up with a forceful thrust of his Skyscraper lance, jabbing the tip into their quarry's shoulder before withdrawing and swiping the long weapon upwards, smacking against the Flash's lower jaw.

By then the wyvern had recovered from Lowell's surprise assault, retreating a pace to avoid another strike while whipping its tail around overhead. There was a surge of energy surrounding the lash as the creature leapt up and flipped around, bringing it down right on top of the lancer in a blur of orange and green. With a grunt of effort Lowell lifted his shield, the purple aura of his Shield Sense momentarily forming over the barrier right before the tail struck. When it did there was a loud crack as several of the Nargacuga's tailspikes snapped against it, and after a moment Lowell spent braced underneath the lash he hurled it off to the ground beside him, completely unfazed.

Recognizing the disadvantageous position it was in the Flash again leapt out of range, narrowly avoiding a thrust from Lowell and a slash from Mila's recovered longsword. It landed on the opposite side of the space, eyeing them both warily and growling a challenge at the hunters before darting back into the surrounding woods. Lowell immediately turned around to put his back to Mila's while keeping his shield up.

Occasionally he caught sight of some shifting tree limbs or bushes, maybe even a glimpse of the wyvern's orange eyes in the darkness, but otherwise he couldn't keep a bead on it. Nargacugas were by nature stealth predators, better suited to hit and run tactics than direct engagements. Flash was considered a threat precisely because that attribute along with its Hyper state let it slaughter its prey before it could even fight back. It wouldn't face them in a straight fight now that it was at a numerical disadvantage.

Unfortunately for the Hyper wyvern, no amount of camouflage and tricky movements would hide it from Awareness. Mila immediately looked sideways when she felt it charging into the space yet again.

"On your right!"

"Moving!"

The lancer hopped into position as their quarry bore down on the two, with Mila darting behind him. Verdant Flash's right wing blade clashed against Lowell's shield in a shower of sparks, but the burst of violet light from the hunter's shield was something the Nargacuga hadn't been prepared for—a force of unseen energy countered and returned the beast's momentum, splitting a crack through its wing blade and sending Flash into a flailing tumble over his head.

Mila jumped high over the beast's body as it crashed into the floor, taking a wide sweep of her longsword as she turned over in midair and slashing a thin line across the Nargacuga's back. She landed and immediately raced ahead to land a thrust on the beast, but found herself forced to duck into a slide when Flash swiped its tail at her, having recovered from Lowell's counter shockingly fast. Despite her reaction, the creature's tailspikes clashed against Manami's blade over her head, lifting the huntress from her slide and whipping her back into the air.

She responded quickly, throwing Manami behind her to embed itself into the soil tip-first a few yards back. The huntress then turned and righted herself, catching the handle and planting both feet against the wavy back of the longsword, cutting a long line through the ground as she slid to a stop.

"Still untouchable," she hummed, springing off the blade and drawing Bud and Bloom in its place. The Verdant Flash had focused its attention on Lowell while she was recovering, pouncing at the lancer and forcing him onto the defensive. Even its Hyper-infused jaws couldn't so much as scratch his shield though, and he managed to force the beast back again with a powerful thrust of his lance. Seeing the pressure was momentarily alleviated, Mila sprinted up behind the hunter while flipping her daggers into reverse grips.

"Gimme a boost!"

Lowell turned his head back for a short moment, then ducked low with his shield raised overhead. Mila kicked off the ground and used the surface as a springboard to vault further forwards, launching into vicious spiral of slashes over and across Flash's back. Each blade cut shallow wounds into its fur hide, but that was all the damage they needed to allow the toxins coating the daggers to seep into their target's system. She landed in a long slide, skidding several yards away towards the ore deposits at the base of the cliff.

The Verdant Flash immediately shifted its full attention back to her, dodging away from Lowell and flipping its lower body around into a much faster tail slam aimed right for her. While noting another presence rapidly descending the cliff behind her, Mila dipped into her inner well of energy and rapidly dodged out of the way of the attack, momentarily befuddling the Nargacuga as several afterimages of the huntress appeared and darted away in several directions. They converged on Mila's location back by Lowell, and both hunters turned their attention skyward as their third companion slid down the cliff face with a heavy Chrome Razor great sword clutched in his grasp.

His teal blue Zinogre armor illuminating the air around him, Zeke pushed off from his slide, descending upon the Verdant Flash's tail with a mighty roar as a flash of orange enveloped his blade. Its tail still lodged into the stone and wood, the Nargacuga could not evade the coming strike—Zeke's Focus-powered great sword sundered tail from body in one go, cutting off nearly two yards of the elastic lash and burying the blade a foot into the ground with a deep rumble. A crack split through the earth as well, racing around protruding roots and running several yards up the cliff face the Ace has just made his entrance from.

Having most of its tail separated from its body sent the Verdant Flash into a panicked run, screeching in pain as it attempted to get away from the third Hunter. Mila and Lowell both leapt aside to make way, watching the wyvern crash into a boulder and completely roll over back onto all fours, talons scraping into the ground to act as brakes as it howled in dismay.

"I hope you two weren't having too much fun," Zeke laughed, prying his blade free from the ground and walking ahead to join them. "I'll end this hunt in one more swing."

"This is a capture quest, remember?" Lowell pointed out. "Perhaps don't cleave off anything too important?"

"Yeah, like its tail," Mila pouted, pointing one of her daggers at a large chink in Zeke's great sword. "And would it kill ya to take better care of your gear? Poor thing looks like it's gonna snap in half with the way you're slamming it around!"

"Then tell the smiths to make something that can actually stand up to Focus Sense."

The three hunters turned their attention back to the Verdant Flash, the beast still staring back at its stump of a tail while whining in pain and disbelief. Hearing Mila step forward and retrieve her longsword made it swivel its head back at her. For a moment there was an indescribable fury in its eyes, but that quickly gave way to worry and concern. No doubt it knew a third opponent tipped the scales even further against it, and for a moment Mila thought it was going to turn and flee. Before it could make the decision a silvery orb flew out of the woods to the right, and the Nargacuga immediately responded as though it were an attack and leapt to the side.

When the orb exploded in a high-pitched ringing sound, though, the Verdant Flash was sent tumbling back to the ground with a surprised screech, its sensitive ears catching the worst of it. The second it hit the ground Alastor rushed into the clearing from the foliage, drawing his Halberion Blade from the shield on his right arm. The large sword blazed to life in his grip, a wave of fire element trailing after it as he swung at the Flash's uninjured wing and head. Two diagonal slashes preceded a wide upswing, which in turn led into a heavy overhead swing that split a crack through the wyvern's beak and made it reel back in pain.

As it did, though, the Verdant Flash's eyes lit up with an unchecked fury, the haze surrounding its head and tail dissipating and reforming around its wing blades. It let out a ferocious roar before launching into an assault aimed at the charge blade user. Alastor quickly lifted his shield to guard against two swipes of the creature's wing, though each Hyper-powered blow sent him sliding back a few feet from the sheer force behind them. The hunter stumbled over a tree root with a short curse while the Nargacuga leapt in a wide quarter circle around him, then pounced with the intent to bury its fangs into him before he could recover.

Fortunately for Alastor, Lowell jumped in the way before he could take the hit, the Hyper wyvern's fangs clashing off of his shield in a shower of sparks. Mila then slid between the two and turned sharply, thrusting Manami beneath her arm to strike at the beast's chest from around her Agnaktor-clad companion. She pulled the blade free and swiveled sharply, switching her lead grip yet again and slashing a clean line across the beast's face, driving it off of her teammate's shield. Zeke followed up with a heavy charge, slamming the flat of his great sword into the wyvern's head and sending it stumbling to the side, shaking the impact off with a growl.

"No worries, Hotshot; I'm here to save you," Mila smirked as the hunter rose to his feet, shaking his shield arm with a short grunt.

"Whatever would I do without you," Alastor replied dryly, slamming his blade back into the shield to charge the phials within. "We're almost there, so don't let up!"

Mila was the first one moving to follow up, grinning wide as she somersaulted over a Hyper-infused wing swipe, slashing at the Verdant Flash's arm in the process. Though her blade clashed off the limb without dealing much damage, the huntress was able to follow up by planting her blade into a tree stump as she landed and slingshotting around the grip, throwing herself further behind the wyvern while drawing Bud and Bloom again. She whipped each short blade at the Verdant Flash's haunch one after the other, both finding their mark in its upper thigh.

The venom hadn't quite taken effect yet though, and in the creature's enraged state it immediately turned its attention to her. The Nargacuga leapt high and dove towards her, a surge of Hyper energy enshrouding its wing blade and lengthening it by almost a half. Mila swiveled and leapt into a cartwheel over the attack a moment before it landed, barely missing a few strands of her long blonde ponytail as it passed. The wyvern swerved hard as it landed though, raking a trio of lines through the ground as it turned and launched at her again, yet another blade of energy forming over its wing. It swung its appendage upwards, carving an even deeper groove into the soil and roots underfoot, but the huntress successfully dodged yet again with a backflip to the side.

"Can't touch me!"

The wyvern continued its single-minded assault by turning about and whipping its tail at the huntress. Though missing much of its length, the elastic lash stretched just far enough to force Mila to evade for a third time by ducking and sliding off to the side. She quickly pushed up and leapt towards the wyvern's haunch, grabbing both of her daggers and pulling them free as she dropped down to the ground.

Mila leapt high when the Nargacuga took a full three-sixty tail sweep at her, clearing the appendage easily as the rest of her team surged forwards. The huntress flipped over Alastor's shoulder by mere inches as he transformed his Halberion Blade into axe form, taking her place while she went to recover her long sword. Zeke and Alastor both brought their heavy weapons down on the creature's wing, causing it to reel back with a screech as a large fragment of the wing was cracked off with a burst of fire element accompanied by a blast of phial energy.

It immediately struck back with its other wing, intent on gashing the two hunters across the middle, but Lowell again stepped in to block the strike, stopping the Flash's wing blade in its path and countering with a sharp thrust of his lance. The Nargacuga quickly leapt back to evade any more follow ups, wheezing out an infuriated challenge at the hunters. By then the toxins from Mila's daggers seemed to be taking effect, though, causing it to stagger to the side with heavy eyelids. The huntress rejoined the others with Manami in her grasp, but upon seeing the Flash's condition she reached up for her earpiece.

"Alright Sweetheart, you're up!"

Right on cue, a folded mechanical object shot down from the canopy overhead, burying itself into the dirt behind the Nargacuga's back leg. It whirred to life and spiraled into the ground deeper as it dug out a hole underneath the wyvern—the very second the net sprang up from the dirt, the Verdant Flash plunged into the pitfall. While screeching in surprise, in its enraged state it only ended up only further entangling itself as it tried to pull itself out, leaving it helpless to dodge the tranquilizer pods that Falia fired from her perch in the trees. One, two, three shots struck true around the beast's head, and at last it let out a weak whimper and collapsed into a deep slumber, the haze of its Hyper-enhanced limbs fading away as well.

"Easy, far too easy," Zeke grunted disappointedly, sheathing his great sword and removing his helm. "I don't see how anyone could have been threatened by this monster. Was this really the best choice for us to practice against?"

"Perhaps it seemed easy because we followed a plan," Lowell suggested while hooking his lance behind his back. "Sliding down the cliff one by one to avoid detection and set up surprise attacks was a smart call. Same with abusing its natural reaction to sonic bombs to keep it from running."

"It only worked because of our skillsets. Most people don't have a good answer to a Nargacuga's sneak attacks," Alastor replied, sticking the spiked bottom of his shield into the ground next to him. "But, Mila's Aura is about the strongest counter to any stealth tactic I can imagine."

"Yeah, I am pretty great, aren't I?" she grinned, removing her scabbard from its place on her back and sheathing her longsword at her side. "Feel free to heap the praise on me all night, heheh~"

"Lowell's Shield Sense was the only thing that could stand up to a Hyper monster's assault when one of us couldn't evade," he continued, ignoring her advances. "As for you Zeke, your Focus Sense is without a doubt the strongest offense we have, so making every swing count was good."

"I only swung twice."

"But it was a good two swings, wasn't it?" Lowell asked. The great sword user frowned and rubbed his chin in thought for a moment or two.

"...Fair enough."

"And to answer your first question Zeke, it wasn't about fighting a 'strong' monster. Tempest is an incredibly old elder dragon that's faced far more hunters than all of us have faced monsters combined. It's not just strong or durable, but crafty, fast, creative, a whole slew of traits really. If we're going to beat it, we need to be prepared for anything and everything."

The others all nodded in agreement, though some rustling from above drew the hunters' attention. Mila smirked and placed a hand on her hip as Falia's head poked out of the canopy, and the Handler breathed a short sigh.

"So three cheers for a successful hunt, we can all gather around and flex in victory, yada yada yada. But before all that, could one of you give me a hand down? My grappling line jammed and I am very... very high up right now."

"I've got you," Lowell called up, holding his arms out in preparation.

Seeing him readied up below her Falia released her hold on the branch, but to her and Lowell's surprise she only dropped about halfway before Mila sprinted and leapt into the air, snatching the handler out of her fall bridal-style with a cheeky smirk. Falia let out a terrified yelp as they dropped the rest of the way, with Mila landing atop a tree stump before sharply towards the other hunters.

"Mine."

It didn't take long for the recovery team to arrive and begin loading the sedated Nargacuga onto their cart, a task the hunters assisted with. Once its body was secured they loaded up onto the cart... save for Alastor. The charge blade user had his nose buried into a map he'd brought with him, muttering something to himself under his breath.

"Are you going to stand out here all night, or can we head back to the city?" Zeke called, startling him out of his thoughts. "I would like to get whatever sleep I can before dawn."

"Actually, there's something I need to check out first," he answered, folding up the map and looking off towards the east. "Go on ahead, I'll catch up."

"Whoa whoa, Red! Going off into the Everwood on your own is  _not_  a great idea!" Mila said, beginning to push herself off the cart. "How about I tag along, hmm? We can make it a date."

"Oh no you don't," Falia hissed, grabbing Mila's hand before she could get away. "I am not letting you run off into the woods to go frolicking with Mister Mask over there."

"But—!"

"No buts! You swore you'd help get me get out of this Isaac thing! If you go running off into the woods and leave me alone to deal  _him_ , I will ruin you," the Handler promised, pointing a finger right in Mila's face. "Last time you got lost in there I didn't see you again for three weeks. Three weeks! Not happening again, sister."

"...three of the greatest weeks of my life," the huntress groaned in dismay, dejectedly allowing Falia drag her back onto the cart. So much for a romantic walk through a moonlit forest...

"She does have a point though," Lowell said, hopping to the ground. "The Everwood's not known for being friendly. I'll join you. Unless of course, Zeke?"

"I've said it once, I'll say it a hundred times—I'm done traveling alone with him," the Zinogre-clad hunter scowled.

"Any objections, King?"

"None. Glad to have you along. We'll meet back up with you all in Ran Fos."

"I'm holding you to that, Hotshot!" Mila called back at the pair as the cart began to wheel off back towards the city.

* * *

"So, where's this mystery excursion off to?" the lancer asked, jogging up alongside the red-haired hunter as they stride through the forest.

"The ruins of Sylvain Castle. All evidence points to the keep being Tempest's southern roost, and since we're probably going to be fighting it there I'd like to get a firsthand look at the area."

"I see. How old are the ruins? I know plenty of An Civ history, but I've never heard of anything called Sylvain."

"Apparently it's an ancient human kingdom that existed back when Minegarde, Schrade, Venatoria, Jaagezuela and all the other territories were still divided up into kingdoms. I couldn't find much about it apart from the name though, so it was likely lost after the first Dire Miralis incident."

"There were more than just the one in Tanzia? I'd never heard of that."

"I don't blame you. Not like it's common knowledge. I had to do a bit of digging in Dundorma's Great Library to find that out."

"Mm. Strange to think so much history could be lost to time... but I suppose a more pertinent question would be why Tempest chose this place as its roost."

"It's likely a defensible location, tucked away from where most people or other monsters would stray. Or perhaps it has an attachment to the keep. Some monsters choose territory that would seem odd to us because of an experience they had there."

"I once heard about a Kecha Wacha that inhabited a destroyed village for that sort of reason," Lowell mused as they continued along up an incline, pushing through bramble and stepping over tree roots. "I can definitely understand why though. Ancile means everything to me. I don't think I'll ever be able to stay away for long."

"If I'm being honest, that's why I was surprised you agreed to help Zeke. This has nothing to do with your village, so why stick your neck out? There's no way you didn't know he was full of crap."

"Well of course, this is Zeke we're talking about. He's gone on record saying he plans to hunt every kind of monster there is, so it's not too hard to see that this is just another milestone for his goal. But, for all his faults, I can't say my conscience would feel too great if he got himself killed over something he asked my help for. He may be an ass, but he's still my friend."

"For a village defender, you are way too soft," Alastor sighed, checking the map and his compass before they continued down another path in the woods. The only sign that they were getting closer was a long-collapsed pile of grey stone bricks, long worn by time.

"And what about you? Last I recall you and Zeke had a bit of a falling out."

"We did. I called him out on his senseless conquest, and he refused to see anything wrong with it. Hunters that only see monsters as punching bags to slaughter and turn into their next piece of equipment make me sick. There's no dignity or respect. It's just barbaric. Yet, Zeke revels in that."

"I suppose... so why then?"

"Because like it or not he made sense. Tempest is moving very strangely, and an elder dragon breaking routine means a lot of lives could be at stake. Knowing Zeke, if I left him to his own devices he'd mess this all up, piss off Tempest, then get an entire settlement wiped off the map. The people of this region don't deserve to suffer for one man's idiocy. So, I'm here to keep that from happening."

"Heh. Always with the good intentions. It's no wonder people call you a saint. That or they swoon just hearing your name. Even Mila's smitten."

"Don't remind me," Alastor sighed tiredly. "She's relentless. I haven't had a moment to myself since I got to Ran Fos."

"Sounds just like the exam," Lowell chuckled, looking further ahead when a few Kelbi darted across the trail in front of them. "Still, I don't get it. Sure Mila has a... strong personality, and I'd hardly call her humble, but she's far from a bad person. Drop dead gorgeous too. Do you not like her or something?"

"That's not it. I can agree on most fronts, but... relationships and I won't work out."

"Why's that? Some old flame ruin it all for you?"

"That's one way you could say it," Alastor muttered dryly, glancing down at his arm. "Really though, I just know better. It's the same with all the other hunters out there that constantly wear masks or helms. People are drawn to their hunting persona because of the mystery. Then, once the mask's off, the show's over."

"That's a grim way of looking at it... do you really think she wouldn't stick around?"

"Trust me, I'm an incredibly boring individual. But why are you asking me all this? As I recall you were rather keen on getting her attention back at the exam."

"Not to repeat you or anything, but I realized she and I just wouldn't work out. I plan to settle down in Ancile and barely leave. She wants to travel and see the world. I'm sure you can see where we'd have a problem."

"Far as I can tell she always comes back to her family. It probably wouldn't be as bad as you think," Alastor shrugged in reply, once more checking their heading when they came to a brief pause beside a large crook.

"Maybe, but why do you think she's so focused on you?" the lancer continued, hopping over the water to follow after the other hunter. "It's because you do what she likes. You spend all your time traveling and seeing new places. That kind of lifestyle probably appeals to her."

"I suppose… but when did you decide to play wingman?"

"Look, all I'm saying is I've seen her flirt with other people, and then I've seen her flirt with you. You've got the best chance out of anybody."

"It wouldn't be that simple. I have enough on my plate without bringing a relationship into the equation."

"Man, I just can't get a read on you… can't say I get it, but your reasons are your own."

"Mhm. Now can we please pick a new topic of conversation?"

"Alright, alright," Lowell laughed while raising his hands defensively, making the charge blade user roll his eyes. "Well, it's been almost a week and a half. The big day is coming up. Do you have anything in mind for dealing with Tempest?"

"A couple ideas, but that's mostly why we're going to check out the locale. This hunt is going to take everything we have, so I'm not letting any potential advantages slip by."

"Do you think we're prepared? Experience-wise, I mean."

"...Hard to say. All four of us have experience fighting elder dragons, sure, but for the most part I don't think it's good experience. You and Zeke hunted that Dah'ren Mohran some years back, and I assisted in felling a Lao Shan Lung."

"I've heard stories about that. They say you took command after the hunter in charge was incapacitated by falling rocks. It's a real hero-tale, depending on who tells it."

"I bet most versions omit the fact that I never even took a swing at it. From what I recall most of your fight against the Mohran took place on a sandship, right?"

"We were grounded for the final part, but yeah, most of the time we were on the ship."

"So Mila is the only one among us who has any experience fighting elder dragons like Tempest, specifically because she DID fight Tempest. I trust she'll know what she's doing, but that doesn't do much for the rest of us. Especially not with her... less than helpful description of how it fights."

"The sound effects were a nice touch."

"Mm. In any case, it's not very cut and dry. I'll know better after we've inspected the keep, but even then I can't say anything's certain."

"I see... well, I'm just glad you didn't say it'll be impossible."

"Lowell, nothing is impossible," Alastor affirmed as they stepped past one final wall of brush and into a large open space.

Trees grew scarcely in the massive clearing, only poking up from the ground between shattered remnants of the stone floor strewn with debris from the collapsed brick structure, the last vestiges of a once-great castle. The hunters stood on the western edge of the clearing, while several hundred feet across on the eastern end they could see a huge stone keep, the one remaining structure that while showing severe signs of erosion still stood in defiance of time. A vine canopy stretched over the southern end of the space, supported by thick trees or the rare remaining pillars of stone. Lastly, a deep pool of water fed by a thin stream lay to the immediate north of them, perhaps having once been dug out by those who built the castle before nature had reclaimed the space. The moonlit air here was almost haunting, as though even now the long-fallen halls still echoed with authority.

"Impressive," the lancer whistled, stepping into the clearing and resting his hands on his hips as he surveyed the space. "So this is Tempest's retreat... never thought I'd say this, but this dragon has good taste."

Alastor quietly followed after the lancer, turning his head from left to right as he scanned the area. Their metal boots clacked against the stone underfoot, echoing throughout the clearing. The charge blade user turned his head suddenly, thinking he had heard a voice off to the side, only to see a short shrub scraping against a pile of broken bricks. He frowned at the plant before continuing along towards the keep, a strange feeling welling up inside Alastor as he strode towards the chamber. It was an odd sensation, like nostalgia for a place he'd never been to.

"Lowell, does this place seem... familiar at all to you?" he asked, making the lancer pause with a raised eyebrow.

"Not really. I've seen ruins before, and those all have that historical 'wow' factor, but it's all new to me. Why?"

"...I'm not sure. I just have a strange sense of deja vu."

"You're probably just tired. Late night hunts always tend to be a little more draining, yeah?"

"Maybe... can't say the Adlers' couch is the most comfortable thing I've ever slept on. Let's just finish up here and head back to Ran Fos."

"Agreed. I could use a bit of shut eye myself."

Alastor's frown deepened as they moved along, his eyes landing on a scorched patch of ground. The records never said what became of this kingdom, how the castle fell. Perhaps it was abandoned and simply fell to ruin… or perhaps something exceedingly powerful came and crushed it underfoot. He idly gripped his right forearm, recalling the legends of Fatalis in Castle Schrade, the siege of Dundorma by the abominable Gogmazios, the cruelty of the 'immortal' Alatreon, and the fall of Port Tanzia beneath Dire Miralis. So much carnage and devastation caused by those fell beasts… Alastor could practically hear a draconic bellow from deep within his mind.

He shook the thoughts from his head and returned his attention to the task at hand, following Lowell into the ruined keep. They had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes: Please review! I ended up revising this chapter a lot more than I expected I'd have to. The Verdant Flash fight was a lot longer, and there were a couple other scenes throughout too... but then I realized the chapter was getting a lot longer than it needed to be.
> 
> Still, I'm overall pretty happy with this one! One of my favorite parts about writing The Master Corps was all the new technology I could think up and explain using materials in the MonHun universe. Since my own storyverse already has quite a few oddities to it, I could have a bit more fun building off of the past for the sake of this story. I wouldn't say it's the most important bits of detail, so it doesn't really affect the plot, but who doesn't like some fun tech talk?
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, faithful reader! See you for the next one!


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